Living is Easy
by seilleanmor
Summary: Castle Summer Hiatus 2015 Ficathon Entry. Castle's first time at the Becketts' cabin, summer after season four.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A couple of months ago, I coauthored a story with bravevulnerability called _Sting a Second Time_ in which I mentioned Kate and Rick spending some time at her father's cabin the first summer they were together. A lovely review from Everythings-Castle requested that we delve in to that plot point a little more, and although bravevulnerablity is too busy with her own wonderful writing to collaborate again, she has graciously allowed me to write it without her.

* * *

 _Summertime, and the living is easy_

 _Fish are jumping and the cotton is high_

* * *

 **Living is Easy**

* * *

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Kate asks again, chewing on her lip as she watches him rifling through his bathroom cabinets. Her own suitcase is by the front door; Castle keeps reassuring her that he's almost done and then remembering something else it's vital he bring on their trip.

Snapping closed the plastic head that protects his toothbrush, Rick drops it into his wash bag and meets her eyes in the mirror. He's distracted for a long moment, eyes on her but his brain someplace else, and then he notices her concern and comes away from the counter and towards her.

His fingers curl in the bottom of her shirt and he uses that grip on the fabric to reel her in and press his mouth to hers. His tongue strokes at the seam of her lips and she unfolds for him, lets him slick inside. Castle's fingers are much thicker than hers, and it still surprises her how delicate his touch can be. He sifts through the spill of her hair, flirts with her clavicle, skims his knuckles against the curve of her breast.

"Why would I mind?"

"This is. . .our first vacation," she admits, resting a palm against his chest. He's wearing a t-shirt today, the material clinging tight to the swell of his biceps, and Kate is having to push back her aching for him over and over again. "I thought you would want to go someplace exotic."

He hesitates a moment, hand sliding underneath her shirt to circle her waist. Their relationship has become so much more tactile in the last five weeks and Kate is wrecked by it over and over again, feels herself trapped and tumbling in a current of need. Castle's mouth skims her cheekbone and her head turns into the touch, giving him access to her earlobe. Teeth catch the sensitive skin and she gasps, arching.

"I don't care where I am, as long as you're there too. And you know I've wanted to see the cabin since I found out about it."

She laughs, dipping her head and letting her eyes slide away from his. Sometimes she still feels so terribly shy around him, giggly and smitten as a schoolgirl. The way he seems to orient himself around her and make her the sole focus of his attentions has her heart thrashing, love staining her cheeks. "I know. I'm excited for you to see it."

"Good," her partner grins, leaning in to take her mouth again. It's a slow and lazy kiss, like they've got all the time in the world, but Kate would like to make it there before lunchtime and it's already past nine. She tugs out of the kiss, presses her head back against the doorframe and arranges the attractive flop of his hair away from his forehead.

"Are you almost ready?"

Castle wheels around, moves for the counter and rummages through his wash bag. She doesn't know exactly what he's packed - she was doing her best not to hover - but the way the thing bulges assures her that he'll be just fine. "I'm all set. Just let me grab my laptop and the charger."

"You're bringing it?" Kate is careful to keep her voice soft, let the question tiptoe up to him. This trip was her idea, yes, but she's not looking to boss him around for the duration of it. What she loves most about Castle is his eagerness to make other people happy, but she won't let him do so at the expense of himself.

"Yeah, I. . .thought I might do some writing?" he shrugs, zipping the wash bag closed and moving past her into the bedroom to drop the bag into the suitcase on the bed. The way he packs is methodical, all crisp folding and careful use of space, and Kate runs her fingers over the worn cotton of the top shirt on the pile. "Being around you like this gives me so many new ideas."

Kate pins him with her gaze for a moment, waiting until he turns back around to face her, and she takes a predatory step closer. "Castle, if I find any of the details of our private life in your next Nikki Heat novel, you're going to have to rely on your memories for the rest of your writing career."

"You know I wouldn't," he starts, reaching for her hand and cradling it to his chest. "I want to show you off to the world, yes, but I also want our sex life to be just ours."

A shiver rattles through her at the low rumble of his voice, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. The fact that they even _have_ a sex life is more than she ever dared hope for, and Kate arches onto the tips of her toes to kiss him.

"I know. I trust you."

"We can use it to watch movies too, if you want. Since there's no TV."

Kate winces, peeks up at him from underneath her lashes. He seems oblivious, turning away from her to unplug his phone charger from the nightstand and tuck it into one of the pockets inside his suitcase. She blows out a long breath, counts backward from ten and clears her throat. "Castle. . .there's no wifi either."

"What?" he chokes out, sitting heavily on the end of the bed. Rationally, she knows he's just being melodramatic, trying to be funny, but she's worried all the same. Her family used to escape to the cabin when they needed some space from the chaos of the city, so for Kate it has always been a sanctuary. Only, she's never seen Castle go more than a half hour without touching his phone, and she isn't sure how he'll survive ten days without the internet.

"We don't have to go."

"Kate, hey," he splutters, standing up and reeling her in to an embrace. His palms splay wide at her back, thumb circling over the nape of her neck, and Kate lets her forehead meet his shoulder. Relief has her sagging and his mouth brushes the crown of her head, lips warm everywhere they touch her. "I'm just kidding. I don't need wifi or television, just you. Only you."

Swallowing back the clog of gratitude, Kate's arms circle his waist and she tilts her head, lets her lips brush the side of his throat. "Are you sure you won't be bored?"

"I'm certain," he says firmly, pulling back to capture her gaze and hold it for a long moment before he lets her go with a nod. "Now, are we ready?"

Gratitude washes her clean, makes her feel like cut glass, and she wants to give some of that lovely light back to him. Kate captures his face in her hands and draws him down to her, licks at the corner of his mouth before she sweeps inside. He gasps, groaning, and palms her ass to hoist her closer against him. Their kiss is narcotic and Kate lets her hips roll against his once, twice, before she breaks away.

"We're ready. Let's go."

* * *

She's not letting him drive - of course not - but she is driving _his_ car and somehow that almost seems better. Rick reaches underneath the seat for the lever and pulls, sends his chair backward a few inches and straightens up again. They're at a stoplight, so Kate glances over at him and arches an eyebrow.

"Comfortable?"

"Uh-huh," he grins at her, reaching across the center console to squeeze her thigh. She shoots him a glare, her knuckles bleaching at the steering wheel and he chuckles softly, lets her go. As much as he loves getting Beckett all riled up, he knows she takes driving very seriously. There will be plenty of time to distract her later.

Castle reaches out to touch the control panel for the radio and his girlfriend grunts, driving ahead now that the light is green. "Do not start fiddling."

He doesn't even bother to leer at that - way too easy, Kate - and busies himself with tugging his phone free from his pocket instead. It pings when he unlocks it, an email notification from Black Pawn that he ignores in favour of bringing up the music app. When the message pops up on the car's display screen to connect to his phone he accepts, and the first notes of the song swell to fill the car.

"Oh jeez, really?" Kate huffs at him, but he doesn't miss the grin wriggling at one corner of her mouth. Her focus is on the road ahead of them, and for a moment he's so arrested by the marble-cut grace of her profile he forgets his retort.

And then the chorus starts and he crows with delight, sings along as out of key as he can just to mess with her. "Nice try, Beckett. I know you love Carly Rae. I've heard you in the shower."

"Shut up," she groans, lifting a hand from the wheel to press to her cheek instead. No use, he can still see the furious colour of embarrassment, and he really wonders how it took him this long to realise that Kate is totally adorable.

"No, no, it's fine. You can pretend your tastes are superior if you want. Just means you'll miss all the fun of singing along."

He waits her out, glances out of his passenger window instead, and when the next chorus hits she groans softly and then she's singing. Last year when they worked the case that led to him buying the Old Haunt, he got to hear her sing a little bit. A handful of words snatched up and held close to his chest for safekeeping, and it wasn't enough for him to realise just how beautiful her voice is.

Kate's eyes flick over to him as if she's waiting for the tease, for mockery, but he's still so taken in by her every time he gets to hear her sing that he can do nothing but beam at her like an idiot. "I love when you sing. Your voice is beautiful."

"I thought you were gonna duet with me?"

He laughs, reaching for the volume control to turn the song up, and he joins her for the last chorus. Their voices mesh wonderfully together and he can't stifle his grin, lets it crack his face open in all of its lopsided glory. As the closing bars of the song fade out Rick leans back in his seat and shuts his eyes, listens to Kate humming along until the last possible moment.

"You know Castle, your voice is pretty wonderful too," she says when the song is over and he turns his head to look at her, can't help but reach out and cover her hand on the wheel with his own for a moment.

The playlist rolls on and he's completely delighted by just how many of the songs Kate seems to know, how many of them she's willing to sing to. This morning fog settled its heavy coat over the city, but the clouds have burned away with the heat of the day and the sky above them is clear and brilliant.

"Can you pass my sunglasses? They're inside my purse."

"Yep," he nods, reaching down to grab her purse from the footwell and rummaging inside for the glasses case. Aside from when they've been undercover, he's never seen Beckett carry a purse before, never seen her in ballet flats, and he loves getting to be here for this. Getting to see off-duty Kate.

Rick fishes the glasses out and hands them over to her, opens the glove compartment to fetch his own. When he slides them on and turns back to Kate she spares a glance towards him and laughs quietly, shaking her head.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, just. . .reminds me of that first night we met."

He groans, dropping his head into his hands and refusing to look at her. Even the memory of who he was back then makes him want to cringe away from her and wither a little. Kate Beckett is so amazing, and he wishes desperately that it hadn't taken so long for him to realise he didn't need to try and impress her. That she was, and still is, far more impressed with the real him.

"You mean that time I was wearing sunglasses at night like a total jackass and offered to sign your boobs?"

She crows with delight at that, tipping her head backward for a moment, and he's glad at least one of them is amused. "Oh, don't look so maudlin. You made it through that trying time unscathed, didn't you?"

"Relatively unscathed," he mutters, lifting a hand to the ear that still sings in protest every so often. "I wish I'd never treated you like that, Kate. Made you think I only wanted your body and not everything."

The exit for a rest stop looms up ahead and Kate flicks on the blinker, moves the car across a lane. "Let's stop for coffee."

Kate manoeuvres the car into a parking space and cuts the engine, reaching down to collect her purse before she gets out of the Buick. He lets himself have just a moment to suck in a breath and hope he hasn't ruined things before he follows.

She's waiting for him next to the car, purse slung over one shoulder, and when he comes around to her side she slides her hand into his, fingers laced and thumb circling. He knows his fingers are too stocky for this handhold to be comfortable for her, but today she doesn't seem to mind. Kate walks at his side across the parking lot and towards the building, her body warm and like liquid lapping against his own.

A queue snakes around the Starbucks counter and he sighs, but apparently Kate is in too good a mood to let a line bother her. She stretches up on tiptoe to get her mouth at his ear, two fingers against his shoulder for balance, and his arm loops around her waist to keep her close. "How about you go find us a table and I'll get the coffee?"

"Sure," he smiles, stealing a kiss from her mouth before he lets her go and moves for the seating area. There are tables with proper chairs, but also a few sofas with coffee tables pushed up close, and he decides to settle onto one of the couches. It'll be worth the eye roll if he can get her to snuggle up with him, even just for a minute.

While he waits, he pulls out his phone and checks his emails, finds one from his daughter. Alexis and his mother are in Austria this week, and his little girl has emailed him a video of her grandmother staging a one-woman performance of _The Sound of Music_. He saves the video to his phone, deletes a few irrelevant marketing emails, and then Kate appears and sinks down to sit next to him.

She sets both of their cups down on the table and laces her arms around his neck, her kiss gentle and tasting of forgiveness. Castle squares his shoulders, gears himself up to hear what she really thought of him back then, but her thumb traces the line of his jaw and she tilts her head, pondering. For a long moment, silence hums between them, and then she nods. Decision made, and he closes his eyes to take it.

"You know, you were pretty annoying that first year. But I wouldn't change a thing, Castle. Not when it led us here."

His eyes pop open and he stares at her, feels her admission like a fist to his solar plexus. "Really? Because I know I was an asshole."

"I never thought you were an asshole. Irritating, yes, but I always saw past that persona."

"Are you sure it's not just your feelings for me now clouding your memory?" he laughs, nudging her with his shoulder, but Kate folds her arms and frowns at him.

He reaches for his cappuccino, but apparently she's not done yet and she circles his wrist in her fingers, gathers his hand between both of hers instead. "Don't be self-deprecating. It's not cute. I'm dating you because I-" her eyes close for a long moment, her palms growing clammy. "I think you're pretty amazing. So when you're so determined to put yourself down, it's an insult to my judgement really."

"Okay," he whispers, awed and humbled by how fiercely she fights for them. So she hasn't yet told him she loves him, so what? He hears it in everything she does say, feels it in the sweet touch of her mouth. "I think you're amazing too."

"And maddening, right?" she laughs, letting go of his hand to wrap both of hers around her coffee cup. An eyebrow arches at him from over the rim but he doesn't have the wits for a comeback right now, utterly wrecked by how much he adores her.

Instead, he drinks the coffee she bought him, smoothing two fingers along the outside of her thigh over and over as he does. He doesn't miss her shiver, the quiet moan she offers him, but he forces himself to behave. Plenty of time once they get there.

"Ready?" he asks once she's finished her latte, and at her nod he takes her cup and carries it with his own over to the tray of used dishes. Kate follows close at his back, almost stitched to his heel, and once he sets their cups down her hand slides into his again. She's wearing a dress today, a striped summery thing, and it swishes around her thighs as she walks.

They step out into the parking lot and sunlight pours over them, limning Kate's bare shoulders. Just the few walks they've taken in the park this summer have allowed freckles to erupt across the lovely skin, her cheeks too, and he can't help but dust his mouth to them.

"How much longer?"

"A little less than an hour," she turns to glance at him, squinting against the sun, and he chuckles and nudges her sunglasses down from her head and back into place. "Thanks."

He presses his smile to her cheek at that, doesn't say a word as he follows her to the car and climbs back into the passenger seat. The giddiness is already welling up inside him; it's always at a high when he's around Kate, and the prospect of seeing the cabin and maybe weaselling some childhood Beckett stories out of her has him almost bouncing in his chair.

* * *

When the turning for the cabin comes up, Kate finds herself holding her breath. Ridiculous, because it's only Castle and she knows he'll be delighted no matter what, but. . .she's seen pictures of his family's vacation home. The cabin can't really measure up to a house in the Hamptons.

Guiding the car down the long driveway, Kate carefully ignores the vibration of Castle's excitement. Instead, she lets her own childish joy fill her up until she can't help but smile. Every time she sees the house looming in front of her she's reminded of the first time, her seven year old self and a little nose pressed to the window to watch. She had been awestruck, kept asking her mother over and over if it was really theirs, and Johanna had laughed and promised that it was.

The cabin feels like home, her mother's presence always close, and she's so looking forward to sharing it with somebody else that she loves. "This is it."

"It's _gorgeous_ Kate, wow," he breathes, stealing one of her hands from the wheel to squeeze in his before he lets her have it back. She brings the car to a stop and cuts the engine, unfastening her seatbelt and reaching across to touch his bicep.

"You think so?"

" _Yeah_. When you said cabin I thought. . ." he trails off, wincing, and she can't help but laugh. Kate unfastens her partner's belt too and nudges her elbow into him, nods to his door. She climbs out of her side and comes around the front of the car, taking his hand again and giving him a moment to take it in.

It's not huge, but not exactly small enough to be a true cabin either. The exterior is wood panelled, but the windows are large and the ceilings high and inside the walls are mostly white. Her mother always said they bought the cabin to escape the claustrophobia of the city, so they didn't want the place to be nothing more than a glorified shed.

"I'm glad you like it. Let's grab our bags and then I'll give you a tour."

Kate moves to open the trunk but Castle stops her, reels her in close and wraps his arms around her waist as he leans in to take her mouth. His hands splay wide at her ribcage and she lifts up into the kiss, clings on to his ears to keep her balance. When he pulls back, it's enough to drop a closed-mouth kiss to her lips, another, and then he grins. "Thank you for bringing me here. I know what it means to you."

She nods, struck dumb by his gratitude, and after a moment he remembers to let her go so she can collect their luggage from the trunk. Castle follows her, hauls his suitcase and hers out of the back of the car and sets them onto the gravel of the driveway.

They wheel their luggage up to the house and Castle insists on carrying both bags up the three steps and onto the porch, freeing Kate's hands to search in her purse for the key and unlock the front door. Her dad was up at the cabin a few weeks back, and she's so grateful that they're not hit by a wall of stale air and the awful smell of an unloved home.

Kate steps inside and moves through the entryway and into the main living space, striding across to open the french doors that lead out onto the back porch. Behind her, she feels the warmth of Castle's body, the smell of his cologne, and she leans into the wall of his chest and lets him have silence to take in the view from the rear of the cabin.

Mountains scrape against the sky in the distance, and a lake sits nestled in the valley between them. The steps down from the back porch lead to a path that cuts through the grass all the way to the dock. Her father's boat is tied up, bobbing gently with the susurration of the water, and Castle lets out a shaky breath against her cheek.

"This is so beautiful."

"Yeah," she smiles, tipping her head back to see him. Their suitcases are abandoned in the middle of the living room and she smiles, presses a smacking kiss to his cheek before she heads to collect them. "How about we put these away and then I'll show you the rest of the house?"

A beat of silence stretches and swells, Castle still caught up in looking out at the water, and then he turns and comes to join her. With their backs to the fireplace and the deck, they face the kitchen and Kate leads him over to it, suitcase in hand.

"It's got all the mod cons and everything. Appliances, you know."

He laughs, shaking his head and curling an arm at her waist. His mouth lands at her neck, open and wet and she moans, rocks her hips backward against his. Castle pants, groaning, and his fingers are bruising at her hip. "This sexy real estate agent thing is really doing it for me. Kind of want you up against the counter, kind of want the rest of the tour."

"Tour first," she smirks, patting his chest and breaking away from him. Kate steps out of the kitchen and down the hallway, opening a door and stepping inside. Something in her chest splinters off at being here again, the memories of last summer swallowing her up, and for a moment it's all she can do to press a hand against the wall and stay standing.

Castle is right behind her, of course, and he must notice her crumbling but he doesn't say anything. Sweet man. He moves to stand at her side and she lets her head meet his shoulder, waits for a kiss at her crown before she can straighten up again.

"This is my room."

"This is where you were," he murmurs, moving towards the bed as if he's expecting to find the spectre of her wounded self waiting for his comfort. Castle stares at it for a moment and then he straightens, whips around to face her. "Kate. This is a twin."

"Yeah," she sighs, detaching from the wall to stand at his side. Her finger hooks in the belt loop of his shorts and she nuzzles at the inside of his bicep. So grateful to have him here in this room with her. "Sorry."

He laughs, sliding a hand up the back of her shirt to splay at the curve of her spine. "Did you just smell my armpit?"

"No," she huffs, knocking her head into his arm. He's still laughing, fingers moving to tickle her sides and she squirms away from him, trips over his foot and ends up on her back on the bed. The way his arm was around her gives him no choice but to follow and he catches his weight on his elbows, body nestled in the cradle of hers.

It's still so new, so strange to be with him like this, and the breathlessness is not entirely because of his weight on top of her. Castle kisses the end of her nose and she blinks, lets out something that might have been a giggle on somebody younger, more girlish.

Oh, who is she kidding? She is a giggling, lovestruck mess and Castle looks absolutely awed by it, staring down at her with that smile she thought he only saves for Alexis.

"Okay," she murmurs, arching her neck to kiss the hard edge of his jaw. "Maybe I was smelling you, just a little bit. It's so good to have you here."

"I wish I could have been there then," he admits, playing with her hair where it sprays out across the pillow. He's trying not to dampen the mood, but she can hear the sorrow in the gruffness of his voice, see it in the thin line of his mouth.

Kate wriggles her arms free from under him and laces them around his neck, drawing him down into a kiss. She plays with the fine baby hairs at his nape, traces the shell of his ear. Still, every time, finding something else about him that makes her want to weep in awe.

She lets his kiss get richer, more searching, lets it fill up with grief and then she pulls back, washes them clean with the sweep of her thumb underneath his eye. "No more. Come on. You're here now. Let me show you the rest of the house."

He clambers off her, offers a hand to help her to her feet and she takes it, still a little wobbly after the assault of his kiss. Kate opens the other door, the one they didn't come through, and shows Castle the attached bathroom that she had been so delighted with as a little girl. His eyebrows dance at her and he growls into her ear, something about the shower being spacious enough for two.

Not trusting her voice, Kate manages a nod and drags him with her out into the main living space. She gives him time to meander, pull out some of the titles on the bookshelf and leaf through them, run his fingers along the ornaments above the fireplace, test the comfort of the armchairs. He opens cabinets in the kitchen, gasps dramatically at the emptiness of the fridge, and Kate finds herself trailing behind him, holding onto his tail as he explores. She doesn't want to miss a second of his reactions to her safe space.

Once he's done with the main living space of the cabin, Kate draws him over to the family bathroom, chuckles when he lets out an appreciative whistle at the tub. The windows next to it offer an amazing view out onto the lake and he drops a kiss behind her ear, catches the lobe in his teeth.

"We're going to need to make good use of that view."

Kate opens the door next to the bathroom to show him her parents' room, their private porch. "This room doesn't have an attached bath, but it does have its own deck and a lake view, so." She shrugs, feels so foolish as she seeks his approval.

He gives the room a slow surveillance and then he nods, holding out a hand to her. "It's lovely. Really, so beautiful. But Kate. . .your room is a twin, and I'd really rather not do what I want to do to you in your parents' bed."

"Right," she laughs, even as her cheeks burn. "I thought, if it's okay with you, we could sleep out on the porch? There's a screen that comes down, so the bugs won't get us, and I'm sure it'll be warm enough."

Castle's face breaks open with that boyish grin he has, his body humming like he wishes he could bounce on his toes, and she does her best to soak up his joy. "That sounds awesome! Sleeping under the stars?"

"I'm gonna see about getting a queen for my room here," she assures him, chewing on her lip again. She doesn't want to force him into vacationing here, but this is where she likes to come to be with family. And that's what Castle is to her now. "If. . .if you think we'll come back here sometimes?"

"This is great," he assures her, casting another glance around himself. He does look awed, as if he can't quite believe he's really here, and her heart softens like butter. "Now we've got two family vacation homes. I bet it's amazing here in the winter too."

"Yeah. We've got a couple of snowmobiles in the garage."

His smile grows so wide it scrunches his eyes almost closed and he pumps his fist in the air. "Yess, awesome. We are so coming here for Christmas."

Kate's eyes close a moment, the thought of that particular holiday like lead that sinks in her gut, but she forces a smile for him. Christmas is still six months away, so that argument - and there will definitely be an argument - can wait. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it," he says, pressing a delighted kiss to her mouth and backing out of her parents' room, tugging her along with him. "This place is great, and I'll definitely be doing some more exploring later. But right now, I just really need you."

His voice grates like gravel at her sensitive nerve endings and she quivers, doesn't bother trying to hide as Castle stalks towards her and palms her ass.

"Oh," she gasps, but Castle is already swallowing her surprise and lifting her. His tongue presses into her mouth, so determined, and Kate wraps her legs around his waist and rolls her hips. He takes a stumbling step, another, and she holds her breath through the vertiginous drop to the couch below and the crash of his body on top of her.

* * *

 **Tumblr:** katiehoughton

 **Twitter:** seilleanmor


	2. Chapter 2

**Living is Easy**

* * *

Afterwards, Castle goes to reach for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and Kate smacks a hand against his chest, leaves it resting limp over his heart. "Not that one. My grandmother knitted that."

"So?" he pouts, shivering. The cabin is warm, french doors wide open to let the summer inside, but the patina of sweat on his skin is rapidly cooling and he's grumpy with it, wants to pull the blanket over them and nap for a little while. "What does that matter?"

"It's just _weird_ ," she huffs, rolling her eyes at him, and he grazes his teeth over her eyebrow in retaliation. She arches, hips lifting up against his, but a groan tumbles out of her and she presses a palm over her eyes, shakes her head. "No. No more. You'll kill me."

He gets his lips at her neck, drops a trio of closed-mouth kisses to the roar of her pulse, but Kate pushes away from him entirely and sits up, clambers off the couch to stand over him instead. Right as he's lifting a hand to touch, entranced by how very naked she is, his stomach grumbles its dissent and she laughs, turns away from him.

"I'm hungry too. There's no food here, so how about we shower and then head into town, pick up some groceries?"

He wants her again, of course. How could he not with her bare ass hovering so close? Only, the idea of shopping for groceries with Kate, holding her hand as they meander through the aisles, appeals to him so much that he doesn't really mind getting up from the couch and dusting a kiss to her cheek on his way to the bathroom. "I'll take the first shower?"

"Okay," she says, but he doesn't miss the flicker of surprise across her face. He's taken to drawing her in to the shower with him more often than not, and he knows she must have been expecting a battle about it. But now that he's listening, his stomach twists in aggravation and for once, hunger for food takes precedence over hunger for her.

Castle collects his wash bag from the suitcase on the way past, feeling a little ridiculous as he crouches in front of it. Not that he's embarrassed by how he looks naked, or worried of what Kate thinks of him, it just makes him feel foolish. Like a little boy again.

In the kitchen, he hears Kate opening and closing cupboards, humming a medley of the songs from the car playlist to herself, and when her fingers come to touch the top of his shoulder he jerks, almost falling on his butt.

"Hey, naked man," she laughs, fingers skimming down his arm before she lets go. "I found coffee grounds and some leftovers in the freezer, but that's about it. Should I make a list while you're in the shower?"

He shrugs, getting to his feet with his soap and shampoo in one hand. Kate's wearing his t-shirt and it hits her mid thigh, has his eyes tripping over her forever legs on the way to meet hers. "If you want to. Or we can just get whatever appeals to us when we're at the store? We're on vacation, Kate."

"I know," she laughs, fiddling with the hem of the shirt. "How about a little of both, then? I'll jot down some meal ideas, and then we can decide when we're there."

"Sure," he grins, turning away from her to head for the bathroom. Even if she's on suspension, she's still Beckett. Still likes to be in control, and it's important that he remember that about her and encourage her to structure things if that's what she needs.

The shower pressure isn't as high as at his loft, but he's pleasantly surprised by the spray of the water over his shoulders, the delicious heat. Sometimes he finds himself having to bend down to get his hair wet, the curse of being a tall guy, but he's satisfied to find that this shower accommodates him just fine. And leaves plenty of room to share.

He scrubs shampoo through his hair, lathers himself up with shower gel and rinses off, pretty sure he gets the whole routine done in record time for him. Anticipation fizzes inside at getting to be domestic with Kate, getting to work away at her until youthful delight comes pouring out, and he's eager to get going already.

They pass each other on his way out of the bathroom and she gestures to the notepad on the bed, captures one of the beads of water sliding down his chest on her fingertip. "Made a list. Add things if you want to. I'll be fast."

"Mm-kay," he mutters, thoroughly distracted by her touch against his bare skin. She laughs, ushers him out and closes the bathroom door in his face, but he doesn't let it bother him. Castle's shoulders wiggle in happiness and he sings to himself as he rummages in his suitcase for fresh clothes, wonders if she can hear him under the roar of her own shower.

Once he's dressed, he busies himself with going over the list she's made, adding on some suggestions of his own. Sensible ones, because he loves getting to cook for her, and anyway, he can pick up the fun stuff once they're at the store.

Kate comes out of the bathroom and the smell of her shower gel chases her, a wave of it rolling over him and making him grit his teeth, close his eyes as he rides it out. Her hair is tied up on top of her head, a few wispy curls escaping, and once she's stepped into fresh underwear she pulls on the same dress from earlier.

Right. He got it off her pretty fast, so it's probably still okay to wear. Kate has her makeup bag on the dresser and he watches, fascinated, as she puts on mascara and lip balm. His feet carry him to her of their own accord and he laces his arms low down at her hips, kisses the pale line of her neck and tastes the soap there, the tart burst of not-entirely-pleasant flavour doing strange things to his guts.

"You didn't wash your hair?" he hums, stroking a thumb back and forth over the press of her hipbone through the fabric of her dress. Castle appreciates that Kate doesn't take forever to get ready, but he was anticipating getting to watch her dry her hair, head tipped upside down, and he's a little disappointed.

Kate lifts a hand to touch the messy knot of curls, meets his eyes in the mirror. "I think it's okay like this, right?"

"Looks great."

A blush stains her cheeks, always does when he compliments her, and he wishes she weren't so surprised by it every time. Doesn't she know that he thinks she's extraordinary?

"You ready to go?"

"Uh-huh."

"Got the list?" she turns away from the mirror to face him, slipping a hand in the pocket of his shorts to feel for the folded up paper. "Good. Let's go, then."

He pushes his socked feet into sneakers, waits for Kate to fasten her sandals and straighten up again before he slides his hand into hers. It's still strange to see her like this, wrist bare of her father's watch, painted toes peeking out at him from her shoes, and he squeezes her fingers in gratitude. "Do we need to take the car?"

"Yes, I think so. It's not too far to walk, exactly, but it is a bit of a hike. And anyway, we'll need the car for the groceries."

"Good idea," he nods, collecting the keys from the table by the front door on their way past. "You wanna drive?"

Kate opens the door for him, ushering him through first before she steps out onto the deck, and then she closes her eyes and tips her head backward. The trees above their heads make the light spill dappled over her face, ever-shifting, and she lets out a long sigh. "It's so quiet."

"Kate?" he says gently, holding the keys out to her. For a moment, he imagines a Kate at eighteen, the last summer before college. Still just a girl, her heart not yet blackened with grief, and he yearns to have seen it. It's not the same now; no matter how joyful she is, her mother is always going to be gone.

"Hmm?" she opens her eyes, turns to look at him and sees the car keys he's still offering. His girlfriend shakes her head, pushes his hand back towards him. "No, I've done enough driving today. You do it, I'll direct you."

* * *

It takes them only fifteen minutes to drive into the town, but Kate basks in the sleek glide of the car down the quiet road. She rolls her window all the way open, the breeze whispering through the car and making her glad she tied her hair back.

Castle has the radio on, the cheesy jingle for the local station making him laugh, and he keeps glancing over at her like he wants her to share in his amusement. She smiles back at him, pushes her sunglasses up her nose. It's strange, being here with him, and she has a feeling it's going to take some time to get used to.

Not that she really minds.

Last summer, with everything that happened, the cabin began to fester with her pain and her grief; being back here brings all those memories up to roar at her again. Curling up in her bed and jerking in terror at every noise outside, barely able to walk ten steps to the kitchen and get herself a glass of water. It's part of the reason she wanted them to come here so badly; Castle breathes light and laughter into everything he does, everywhere he goes, and she needs him to make the cabin a space of good memories again.

"Oh, take a left here," she says and Castle flicks on the blinker, makes the turn to bring the car onto the main road through town. They turn into the grocery store parking lot and Castle slides the car into a space in one smooth swing, lines it up perfectly. Kate whistles, delighted with the pride on his face. "Nice, Castle. I should let you drive more often."

He doesn't say anything, but two spots of lovely colour appear high up at his cheekbones and she grins, climbs out of her side of the car to join him. The store isn't huge, but it will have everything they need, and Kate kind of likes that about it. "Ready?"

"Actually. . ." he hesitates, taking hold of her hand and pushing the car keys into his pocket. "I saw a diner down the street, and I bet neither of us really feels like making something for lunch. So how about we grab something to eat and then shop?"

"Okay," she nods, squeezing his fingers and turning away from the grocery store. "It's the only diner in town, you know."

She can't help her laughter at the look on his face, the surprise that gives way to horror. It's a small town, she did warn him, but apparently he didn't quite realise how serious she was. He swallows, and she wishes she could see his eyes behind his sunglasses. "That's actually kind of nice. I couldn't live someplace like this, but it's nice for a little while."

"You need people," she says, remembering the times she's caught him jotting down an observation whenever they've gone out together, little notes about the people they come across to use later for a character. "And there's not so many here, but the thing about this town is that everyone knows everyone. So you get to have all the stories."

He stares at her for a long moment, reaches out to push her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. His mouth is open, jaw slack with surprise, and then he grabs for her and pulls her in against his chest. A little rough, something desperate in his embrace, but before she gets a chance to question it his mouth is at her ear.

"I'm so in love with you."

Breath catching in her chest, Kate squeezes her eyes closed and wraps her arms around him, wishes she were brave enough to say it back. Instead, she kisses the curve of his Adam's apple and doesn't untangle herself from his hug, content to give him whatever he needs. She feels him put himself together, all too aware of how much their being a couple still takes him by surprise, makes him weak with gratitude.

It's exactly the same for her.

"Okay?" she hums when he lets her go and he nods, reaches for her hand again. It's too warm, really, to have their palms kissing like this; their hands are clammy with the heat, but she wouldn't dream of letting him go.

His silence doesn't unnerve her so much anymore. Before they were dating, and even in the first couple of weeks, if Castle didn't try to fill up gaps in conversation somehow it made her worry that he was upset, brooding over something. Now, she's learned that often his being quiet means he's thinking up plot ideas, or just trying to commit the moment to memory.

She's gotten used to it, curled up on the couch in his office to read and listened to the thunder of his fingers across the keyboard, the little grunts when a sentence isn't quite sitting right. Sometimes she'll even let herself nap there, dreaming of the rain while he works.

Kate smiles her thanks when he opens the door of the diner for her, steps through and immediately erupts in gooseflesh. The AC is up high inside and she shivers, wraps her arms around her middle. Castle touches his fingers low down at her back, keeping her close as he reads the menu above the counter. "Do you wanna go sit outside and I'll order for us?"

Teeth sinking into her lip, she ponders for a moment and shrugs. "I think I'll-"

"Katie Beckett!" A voice says, and an older man appears from the diner's kitchen and comes around the counter to hug her.

She laughs, wrapping her arms around the man and squeezing. Castle's eyebrow lifts at her and she grins, steps out of the embrace. "Hey, Joe. Good to see you."

"Look at you," her friend says, holding her at arm's length a moment before he lets go. "You look so much better."

"Castle," she says, holding out a hand to her partner. He takes it, steps up to stand beside her and offers his free hand to shake Joe's. "Joe owns the diner, has done for thirty years now. He's something of a family friend."

Joe smirks, eyes resting on the grip of their hands for a long moment before he meets Castle's and accepts the handshake. "A pleasure. You must be Richard Castle. Katie's told me a lot about you. Well actually, Johanna did first."

She's spluttering like an idiot, knowing already that it's far too late, but she doesn't want this to be how Castle finds out. Kate wants to tell him herself, let him know how much his books mean to her, how much they meant to her mother. He opens his mouth in question and she nudges an elbow into his side, gives him a look that says _later_.

"The pleasure is all mine," he says instead, smiling at Joe with so much warmth. It fills her with silly pride, to see how kind he is, how he immediately sets people at ease.

"You two wanna go sit outside and I'll bring your menus and some water?" Joe smiles, wiping his hands on the apron around his waist.

Kate casts a glance up at Castle and he lifts a shoulder in acquiescence, a half-smile curling at his mouth. He's easy that way, told her early on that he doesn't really mind what they do as long as he's with her, but all the same she's careful not to assume. To get his opinion before she makes a decision. "That sounds great. Thanks, Joe."

* * *

Lunch is delicious, his burger decadent and spilling over with the various fillings, and the milkshake is even better than Remy's. Kate sits next to him at the picnic bench and Joe sits opposite, teasing her about what she was like as a teenager. He gets to learn all sorts of things. That she had a blue streak in her hair the summer she was fifteen, that when she was twelve she demanded everyone address her only as Katherine. She keeps glancing over at him as if she's waiting for him to make fun, but he's so taken in by these stories of her past that he finds he doesn't even want to tease her about it. That will come later, certainly, but for now he curls his fingers over her thigh and holds on.

Joe finishes his story and Castle stands, comes around the table to shake the other man's hand again. "Thank you for lunch, and for spilling all of Kate's secrets. Shall I go inside to pay?"

"No, no," Joe shakes his head, waving a hand to dismiss Kate's noise of protest. "It's on me."

"Well, thank you very much," Castle smiles, curling his arm at his girlfriend's waist when she comes to stand next to him. He has to let her go when Joe pulls her in to another hug, but he's pleasantly surprised that she's drawn back to his side afterwards, arm brushing his.

Joe glances between them and his face grows soft, the lines on his skin scoring deeper. "Katie, I'm so glad you're finally as happy as you deserve. I couldn't think of someone better for you."

The compliment - from someone who has know Kate nearly all her life - steals his words. Rick sets his jaw against the foolish emotion and nods, totally unable to return the smile she gives him. Kate's hand slides into his pocket as if to hold on, her cheek squished at his bicep, and he feels the jump of muscle as she speaks.

"He's perfect for me. You were right all along."

"I'll let you two go," Joe says, giving Kate's free hand one last squeeze. "You guys have a good vacation now, you hear?"

He walks away, then, and Castle slides his arms around Kate, burying his face in her hair. It's only been five weeks, just a handful of days really, and he's still getting used to this. Not having to hide anymore, not shying away from his feelings. If he wants to, he can cup her face in his hands and kiss her.

And oh, he does want to.

When they break apart Kate chuckles and ducks her head. She took her hair down sometime during lunch and it spills all over her shoulders and down her back, hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry. Joe has a habit of getting a little carried away."

"Don't be sorry," he smiles, moving towards the sidewalk. "I loved hearing his stories. I wish I'd known you then."

She snorts, bumping his side with her elbow as they walk towards the grocery store. "Really? You would have been what, nearing thirty when I was seventeen?"

"I would have been twenty eight," he gasps, pressing his palm to his heart, but he knows it's true. He does have ten years on her, and despite his childish heart, sometimes he feels it like tar in his guts. "But you're right. We found each other at just the right time."

Kate doesn't respond, but he sees the pleased little grin that splits her face, hears her hum of satisfaction. When he offers his hand to her she shakes him off, and he doesn't even mind. There's no need to be holding on to her all the time, not when he's certain she's not going anywhere.

* * *

Grocery shopping with Castle turns out to be ridiculously fun. She's not surprised, exactly, because she has yet to come across an activity that he _doesn't_ make at least somewhat enjoyable. He insists on pushing the cart, lets her be in charge of wielding the list, and when he picks up gummies or potato chips and pouts she laughs instead of saying no.

He's a dad, and a mother hen when it comes to her own eating habits, so he makes sure they pick up plenty of fruit as well, ingredients for actual meals. Over these past few weeks she's been with Castle, Kate has had more home cooked dinners than since she left for college, and she's done a fair share of her own cooking too. She forgot what it's like, to be in the kitchen, making sure everything is just right.

Once they get back to the cabin and unpack the bags, spreading everything out on the counter, Kate rakes her hands through her hair and turns to look at him. "Castle this is ridiculous. There's only two of us. This could feed the whole precinct."

"Hey, relax," he murmurs and she knows, she _knows_ , he's making his voice all smooth and melt in the mouth on purpose because it distracts her, but damn if it isn't working anyway. "We'll get through it. We're gonna burn a lot of calories."

"Oh?" she arches an eyebrow at him, smirking, and she lets him lift her on to the counter and nudge his way between her legs. Her ankles cross at his back and his hands grip her thighs, his mouth already descending to meet hers.

His kiss is slow and careful, building methodically until she's gasping into his mouth and arching, pressing her chest to his. When he breaks away from her, thumbs circling the sensitive skin at the inside of her thighs, his eyes are swallowed up with need. "Being domestic with you is going to kill me. How can I want you so bad all the time?"

"I don't know," she gasps when his thumb digs into her flesh, nails scoring marks in his shoulder through the material of his shirt. "But it's mutual."

He leans in until his forehead meets hers, his breath hot where it washes over her cheek, and when his eyes close his lashes tangle with her own. "We have to put the food away."

"Right now?" Kate lifts her chin until her mouth meets his, sucking hard at his bottom lip. Only a few short months ago, she thought she would never get to kiss Rick Castle again, that the memories from that alley would have to last the rest of her life. As sharp, as amazing as those memories are, the thought of never getting to kiss him and have it not be a ruse hollowed her out with grief. And still, still, she can't believe this is really happening.

"The things for the fridge, at least. I don't want it to get spoiled."

She sighs, but Kate untangles her legs from around him and lets him step away, leaning back on her hands instead. "You're so responsible all of the sudden."

"Makes you want me, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she growls, hopping down from the counter to help him. As soon as these things are away, they'll have the whole rest of the evening to do nothing but each other. Kate shares a private smile with herself at the double entendre and comes to his side, takes the things he passes her that need to go in the freezer. Half of these she doesn't even remember seeing go into the cart, but she's not complaining about ice cream.

Once they're done he rounds the counter and hoists her up onto it, moving closer and keeping her upright with an arm at her back. Kate arches, gasping, finds she can't keep still and moans at the hot line his tongue paints up the side of her neck. They're insatiable, and they're on top of the kitchen counter for goodness sake, but Kate finds she doesn't care in the slightest as long as he doesn't stop.

When he does eventually collapse on top of her, gasping against her ear, she's amazed to find her dress is still on. The weight of Castle's body pins her to the counter, his chest bare and a little sticky over her, but Kate is more than content to sift her fingers through his hair and wait for him to recover.

"Wow," he whispers once his breathing has calmed down a little and she giggles, traces the curve of his ear with a fingertip. "I still can't believe how good we are at that."

She grins, remembering all over again that first morning and how stupidly nervous she'd been. Asking him if he _liked_ it, as if the reverence with which he touched her and the guttural cry of her name wasn't proof enough. Kate had known from the moment they met that they'd be great in bed; it was all the rest of it she had been unsure of.

"You're squashing me," she smiles, but when he moves to get off her she tightens her arms around his shoulders, nuzzles her nose at the underside of his jaw. "I kinda like it."

"I never guessed you'd be a snuggler."

She laughs, unashamed of it here when it's only him. Kate fought a rough and dirty battle to have him, and she's more than earned her right to cuddle whenever she wants. Eventually, Castle eases out of her embrace and stands, offering her a hand to help her up as well. Her bones protest, creaking as she moves, and she winces. They're probably both a little too old for sex on the kitchen island, but it was so worth it.

They clean up together, lathering each other's backs and keeping the slip-slide of hands as chaste as they can manage with the water pouring down over both of them. After the shower, Kate braids her damp hair and hunts through her suitcase for shorts and a tank top, goes to find Castle in the kitchen. He's put the rest of their groceries away in the cabinets, wiped down the island, and she finds him fiddling with the old radio her mother always kept on the windowsill.

"Hey. Not sure that works anymore," she offers, sliding her arms around him from behind and clasping her fingers against his stomach. Kate stretches up on tiptoe to watch him fiddling with it, chin propped at his shoulder, and he turns his head to kiss her cheek.

"I figured it was worth a shot, but I brought my speakers. Do you wanna grab them from the case? I was gonna make a start on dinner."

Kate drops a kiss to the slope of his nose before she goes in search of the speakers. Until she started spending so much time with him outside of work, she hadn't realised how important music is to him. He has different playlists for writing, to get him in the mood for different scenes. He loves to sing, loves it even more when she joins in.

She finds the portable speaker in his case and brings it back to the kitchen with her, props a hip against the counter to watch him plug in his phone and start up a playlist. Carrots lie half-peeled on the chopping board and she expects him to turn back to them, opens her mouth to ask how she can help, but instead he takes her hand and dances her across the kitchen.

They danced a little at Ryan's wedding, but they were both so terribly hesitant, so gun-shy around each other that they hardly even dared make contact. The dance they share tonight is worlds away; his hands are all over as he twirls her around, dips her backward, sways with her.

Once the song ends he lets her go, shares in the laughter that bubbles out of her, and she pushes him back towards the food he had been preparing. "Come on, feed me. I'll help."

They eat out on the dock, an incense candle burning between them to keep the mosquitoes away, and Kate rests her bare feet in Castle's lap once she's done eating, sipping at her wine and watching him finish his meal. One of his hands curls around her foot and squeezes, stays there as he pushes his plate away and leans back in his chair.

At dusk, flies swarm at the surface of the water and fish leap out to catch them, making Castle startle every time. He seems fascinated, watching intently and remaining quiet enough that they can hear the swell of the woods coming alive around them. Cicadas call out to one another and Kate stretches her toes until the joints pop, reaches across for his free hand.

"This is my favourite time of day here. I could sit for hours and just watch nature doing its thing," she smiles, snuggling down into his sweater a little more. It gets cold quickly once the sun starts to set, and she had to get up halfway through the meal to steal a sweater from his suitcase. They still haven't unpacked properly, but for once the control freak in her doesn't care.

"It makes me feel small. All of these creatures, and not a single one of them even seems to know I'm here," he says quietly, staring out at the water. She understands that feeling, was a little sick with it all of last summer, and she doesn't want him to get caught up in it.

Kate watches him for a moment and then stands, comes around the table to climb into his lap. His arms lace around her middle, slipping under the sweatshirt, and he rests his head against hers. Curled up in his arms like this, Kate hates herself all the more for not calling him that summer.

Yes, she was miserable and snarling, wanting to lick her wounds in private. Realistically, it would have been awful to have him there; she would have said something cruel, something she didn't mean and he would have been hurt. But knowing now what it's like to have him, to sit quietly together and watch the sun sink into the belly of the earth. . .she can't imagine why she ever pushed him away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Living is Easy**

* * *

"Mm, morning," Rick groans out, arching his back and raising his arms above his head. He slept heavy, worn out after the exertion of the day before, and now his body sings in irritation at having been in the same position for such a long time. "You sleep okay?"

Kate is curled in the Adirondack chair, legs tucked up underneath herself and a mug on the table next to her. A book rests closed in her lap and she turns to look at him, tugging the blanket around her shoulders a little closer. "Morning. I slept great. You?"

"Great too," he lifts the edge of the duvet, wincing as the cool morning air sneaks its way inside to touch him. It rolls off the mountains, and although Kate assured him that it'll burn off later, the chill has his skin tightening. "Come cuddle with me."

He's prepared to fight for it, needle and prod at her until she gives in, but Kate slides right out of her seat and crosses the deck to climb in with him. Immediately, he wraps his arms around her and draws her across the double lounger to tuck her underneath his chin.

"You weren't too cold?" she hums, mouth opening to kiss the edge of his jaw. He needs to shave, scruff itching as it starts to grow in, but Kate's teeth catch at his skin and nibble there and he thinks maybe he can leave it a couple more days.

"No, it was perfect. Really comfortable."

She smiles and touches a fingertip to the end of his nose, looking almost surprised to find him here this morning. Last night he got to watch her wash her face, take off her makeup, and he loves the fragile brush of her lashes over her cheeks.

"Good," she says quietly, one hand snaking underneath his shirt and up to splay at his ribs. The dichotomy of mornings with Beckett is still baffling to him; sometimes she's tactile and liquid and willing to lounge with him, and then the next day she'll drag him out of bed and demand they start the day.

At least being at the cabin seems to make her more inclined towards the former. And, well, they don't exactly have anywhere to be. "Do you sleep outside a lot when you're here?"

"Yeah, in the summer. Unless it's raining."

Rick folds his arms behind his head, all too aware of how much the swell of his biceps distracts her. He's not exactly ripped, but since he started shadowing Kate he's made an effort to go to the gym and keep up his fitness level, make sure he's able to have her back. She pillows her head against his chest and drapes her arm over his middle, one of her knees pushing into his thigh, and he lets his eyes close. The morning chorus of birdsong hums sweet above them, the smell of an awakening earth rich and drugging, and he sends silent gratitude up to whomever is listening.

"You have breakfast yet?" he asks, bringing one arm down to fold around her instead. Sometimes, if he catches her at exactly the right moment, strokes his fingers along her skin just how she likes, he can get a cat-like little noise of contentment out of her. He sweeps his fingertips in a slow arc along her neck and down to her shoulder, back up again, over and over until he feels her body sinking into the mattress.

"Hmm, no, not yet. Waiting for you."

His heart melts against his ribcage, sticky and slow-moving, and he brushes a kiss to her hairline. She's drowsy now, only half with him, and he could crow with delight. Kate wakes early, a habit carved into her like stone, but he's learned in their time together that if he works at it he can get her to come back to bed and maybe even sleep a little more.

Rick slides his arm underneath her and shifts her off his chest, climbing out of bed and tucking the sheets around her. He props a knee at the mattress and leans in, kissing her cheek and hovering a moment to breathe in the web of sleep that covers her. "You stay here and doze. I'll make us something to eat."

She hums, wriggling a little to get comfortable and he's arrested for a moment, can't do anything more than stare at her and breathe through the desperate crush of his heart. Kate snuffles, sneaks a fist out from underneath the duvet to rub at her cheek, and for just a second he's not sure he can survive loving her.

Before he does something stupid like kneel at her feet, Rick forces himself to move inside the cabin and to the kitchen, figure out a plan for breakfast. When he pulls open the refrigerator he can't help his grin at the way the thing spills over with food, all of the different options. He was lucky, sold his first novel while he was still in college, but growing up in a single parent family meant he was greeted with a sparse refrigerator more often than he likes to admit to.

He ponders a moment, tapping two fingers against his chin as he scans the shelves. Would Kate like strawberries or cantaloupe better? He shrugs, pulls both out of the fridge and sets them down on the counter. He'll just fix them up a selection, and he'll eat whatever she doesn't finish. Pancakes seems like a little too much effort this morning; he's not sure he can bear to stand over them in his haste to get back to her. He chops the fruit and arranges it in a bowl, makes slices of toast that sag under the layer of melting butter, fixes them each a mug of coffee.

Kate's already had one this morning, but he's never known her to say no to another. He searches in the cabinet drawers for a tray he saw yesterday while they were putting away the groceries, pulls it out and arranges the whole display of breakfast food. He pours her a glass of orange juice as well, in case she doesn't want more coffee, and he wishes he had some flowers to offset the arrangement. It's fine how it is, and he knows Beckett isn't exactly looking to be romanced, but he can't help his desire to sweep her off her feet.

He's careful to watch his step as he moves back out onto the porch, but the pleased little noise Kate makes almost has him toppling over. She's sitting up, the back of the lounger raised to support her, and she smiles as she takes the tray so he can climb in at her side.

"This looks amazing. I wish you'd been here last summer to cook for me."

His jaw clenches and he forces himself to take a breath, another. She doesn't realise what she's saying, doesn't know how desperately he wishes he could have been there, and he won't make an argument out of an offhanded comment.

"Did you sleep some more?" he reaches across her for his cup of coffee, his appetite suddenly vanished. Every single day of last summer, he wanted to be with her. Didn't even know where she was. One night his braver, drunker self mustered some liquid courage and went to her apartment, slumped in the hallway for a couple of hours until one of her neighbours came past and told him Kate wasn't home. Hadn't been home for weeks. And he found it didn't matter to him; he would have gone anywhere with her if it meant the sickness of not knowing would leave him alone.

Kate seems entirely oblivious to his spiral of despair, picking strawberries from the bowl with her fingers and popping them into her mouth one after the other. When she shifts in the bed her thigh brushes his, warm and smooth, and he realises he's being an idiot. Brooding won't change their history, and he's here now with her. How foolish of him to waste a single moment of it in misery.

After breakfast he washes their dishes, watching the methodical work of a squirrel from the window over the sink. The little guy moves fast, tail quivering, and Rick wonders if he knows he's being observed. As he digs he pauses every so often to glance over his shoulder, trembling with the weight of the crosshairs on his back, and only when he moves deeper into the tree line does he relax.

They laughed together, he and Kate, after they were done eating. Rolled in the sheets and let their hands wander, mouths open and seeking. He got to watch the sun lift into the sky behind her, burning off the haze of the early morning, and now the day is brilliant and hot.

Right as he finishes putting away the last of their breakfast dishes, Kate appears from her bedroom. Her hair falls over one shoulder in a braid, and she's wearing a swimsuit that knocks into him, makes him take a stumbling step backward. It's a one piece, pretty conservative, but it clings to her body as if it's already wet and he is entranced by the curve of her breast, the slope of her stomach.

"Wow. . ." he gasps, dropping the dishtowel in his hands and coming for her. His palms span her waist and he growls, suckles at the base of her throat before he takes her mouth. She opens for him, turning her face towards the sun and his tongue slicks inside, traces the ridge of her teeth. When he breaks apart from her it's with a gasp, and he has to shove his hands into his pockets. "Are we swimming?"

"I thought we could. It's a gorgeous day. If you want to?"

Yes," he says immediately, hurrying away from her and towards the bedroom. They unpacked after dinner last night and he's so happy to be sharing a dresser with Kate, to see her shoes crowding next to his by the door. "Let me put my shorts on."

* * *

Kate shrieks when Castle splashes her, bringing her hands up to cover her face and spluttering, shaking her head. Her braid whips around and sprays an arc of water droplets, catching him across the chest and making him yelp. The lake isn't exactly tropical, but it's warm enough that after five minutes she stopped shivering, found herself not even noticing the temperature.

They're playing like children in the water, laughing hard enough that it makes her sides ache. The water of the lake is clear and stunning, offering a view all the way down to the sand at the bottom, and she remembers as a little girl being fascinated by the little fish that milled around her toes. Castle had been hesitant about them, hovering at the shoreline as he watched her wade in, but once she was waist deep he came to join her.

He dips his head under the water for a moment, comes back up wide-eyed and shaking like a dog. Kate laughs and sneaks up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her legs up until her knees are at his hips, ankles crossed in front of his stomach. He beams, craning his neck to see her and pressing a kiss to her cheek that makes her shiver, his mouth cadaveric.

"Hi gorgeous," he says and she flushes, knocks her temple into his. His hands curl around her thighs and he wades deeper until the water is lapping at their chins. There's a second's pause and then he dunks them both, tugs her deep until the surface closes over their heads. The motion forces her to separate from him and she stays under, hears the crash of his body coming up for air and her own lungs just starting to sing out in need.

When fire starts to lick at her chest she finds her footing and pushes upwards, shoots out of the depths and floats back down to standing again. Concern hardens his face to her and she laughs, swims the couple of yards to him and captures his head in her hands. "I'm fine. Don't look like that."

"Don't scare me," he gruffs back at her, pouting, and she captures that lip between her teeth and tugs, has to break away again because her smile is too wide to hold on. He's sombre as he looks at her, great grooves carved into his forehead like wind over sand, and Kate wraps her arms around him. She loves touching him in the water like this, the slip-slide of their skins two eels dancing together, and she holds on until he manages a smile for her.

Kate rolls her shoulders, feels the power that hums just underneath the surface. A kiss pressed to the end of her partner's nose and then she takes off, striking out towards the middle of the lake. Like always, her body gets caught up in the rhythm of the strokes within seconds, her brain paring down to nothing more than numbers and breaths. The muscles in her shoulders are only just getting warmed up by the time she makes it to the middle and she stops, treads water and turns around to wave at Castle.

It's not too far, near enough that she can still see the awe on his face and she grins, blows him a kiss before she makes her way back to him. He catches her up as she approaches and she lets the momentum carry her, legs wrapping around his waist.

"I swam in high school," she says in answer to the lift of his eyebrow, smudging a kiss to his mouth and tasting lake water, silt. "Don't get a chance much in the city, but when I'm here and it's warm enough I swim pretty much every day."

He groans, forehead at her temple and hot breaths washing over her cheek. "God, that's sexy. Is there anything you can't do?"

"I'm not good at resisting you," she fires back immediately, rolling her hips against his, but instead of the shudder of desire she's looking for, he laughs at her.

"That's not true. You did nothing but resist me for three years."

His palms are at her butt now, holding her close, but his eyes are dark with hurt instead of need and she knows she owes it to him to try and explain. "I wasn't resisting you. I know it felt that way a lot of the time, but I wasn't. If I had been, I would never have let you start shadowing me at all."

"I thought you didn't have a choice."

"I always had a choice," she says softly, skimming her thumb along his eyebrow. "Montgomery could have kicked you to the curb right away, if I'd really wanted him to. But I. . .didn't."

Even in the very beginning, when he refused to let go of the womaniser persona and he poked his nose into every nook and cranny of her private life, she never could bring herself to get rid of him. Castle was a pain in the ass, yes, but he was also fun and exciting and the little zap of adrenaline that came to life every time their eyes met was too good for her to let go of.

He kisses her then, pours his gratitude into her to let it sit warm and good in her belly. His tongue works at her, one hand travelling up to wrap around the back of her neck. His thumb rests at her jaw, feeling the work she puts in to their kiss and when she breaks away, Kate turns her head and licks the pad of it, delighting in his groan.

"Swim with me," she beams, letting her legs drop from his waist. The ground shifts under her feet, sand burrowing its way between her toes and she sways a little, lets herself pay attention to the water so that the shock of the cold sets her right again.

"I'm not that fast."

"I'll go slow," she laughs, poking her tongue out at him and jerking away before he can kiss her again. She feels good this morning, like nothing can possibly touch them, and she wants to swim with the beautiful line of his body at her side, watch the work of those muscles in his shoulders and arms.

Castle regards her for a moment and then he jerks, turning around and diving into the water with a great splash, already moving away from her. He's a messy swimmer, shockwaves scattering across the lake from the epicentre of his body, but not as slow as he made her think. She watches, intrigued to see that he favours butterfly over front crawl, and then Kate slips under the water and swims to catch up with him.

* * *

They exhaust themselves, trying to out swim one another, and when they eventually move back towards the cabin and haul themselves up the ladder and onto the dock, the idea of going any further than that is too much. Castle ends up sprawled on his back, the wooden slats almost scalding against his lake-chilled skin, and Kate drapes herself over him.

He traces the length of her braid, strokes up and down her spine as he feels her chest work in echo of his own, both of them searching for breath. Her eyes are open, water clinging to her bare lashes, and Kate props her chin on his chest to smile at him. "I thought you said you weren't fast?"

"Trying to keep up with you is excellent motivation."

In truth, he really hadn't known he had that much stamina in him, but watching Kate's body slip past him ethereal and slender as a fish made him yearn to keep up, keep her close. He'll pay for it later, his whole body already sapped of energy, but it was so worth it.

"I've missed it," she murmurs, stretching her leg and threading her toes in between his. It's a little weird, makes him shiver, but he kind of likes the strange contact. "I haven't made it out here in years. Apart from last summer, and I wasn't up to it then. I could barely manage to sit here with my feet in the water."

He goes cold again, blood draining as if he's opened a vein, and he just wants her to stop bringing it up. He's not over it, hasn't yet healed from the wound that that summer bore into him. Every day without her it opened wider, lanced deeper, and even now he wants to curl up around the raw places and not let her see. But he's a coward, and he won't ruin this, so he bites the inside of his cheek and stays carefully silent.

They lay together until the sun bakes them, swimsuits drying stiff so that his shorts crack when he moves. He sits up, an arm around her to bring her with him, and he nuzzles at her hairline. "You wanna go inside, get something to eat?"

"Not yet," she says, lacing her arm through his and using his shoulder to prop herself up. The colour is coming back to her skin now, not so blue as it was when she climbed out of the lake, and he's quite content to sit here for as long as she wants to.

Kate lifts a lazy arm to point towards the opposite side of the lake, the blurry edge of the woods, and drops her head to rest against his chest. "Do you see that clearing over there?"

"Uh-huh."

"There's a stream that runs through it, and if you hike along it you get to this amazing waterfall that you can jump from." He gulps, not entirely convinced that jumping from a glorified cliff is something he'd consider _amazing_ , but she's grinning so wide that her eyes are almost closed. "I sliced my side open once."

" _Beckett_ ," he gasps, clutching at her as if he can stop her past self from hurtling over the edge. She's laughing though, tugging on his earlobe, and really her fixation with his ears shouldn't be such a surprise given their history, but every time it sends a shiver of pleasure through him.

She gets to her knees next to him and twists around, pointing to a silvery, jagged line that runs parallel to her ribcage, a couple of inches lower. "See it?"

"I see it," he reaches out, paints the scar with his fingertips and travels down to circle her waist, bring her back in against him. "That doesn't really make me want to do it, Kate."

"No, it's fine," she assures him, patting his knee. "I was just reckless that time, too smug at fifteen to bother checking the water level at the bottom and we'd had a dry summer. We'll do it, but carefully."

He's still a little afraid, doesn't really want either of them to get sliced up by jagged rocks, but who is he kidding? He will definitely jump off a waterfall for her if that's what she wants. "Not today, though, right?"

"Nah," she smirks, peeking at him from the corner of her eye. "I'll give you a couple of days to gather your courage before we take the plunge."

"Hey! I have plenty of courage."

She sobers fast, twisting around to see him and touch her thumb to the corner of his eye, the lines that spool outwards. "Yeah. You do. Saved my life, over and over."

He can't think of anything worthy to say, a way to reassure her that he'd do every second of it all over again, so he kisses her instead. This just might be the best part of being with her; now, he doesn't have to tiptoe around the edges of subtext. When he can't find the words, his kiss says everything he needs.

They come apart and she gives him this pleased little grin, and suddenly he knows exactly what she must have been like as a girl, sitting on this dock with her mother and sharing stories about school, maybe her first crushes or the mean girl in science class. He sees the future too, sees Kate out here with their own little girl watching daddy and her brother splashing each other, and he has to suck in a breath, turn away from her.

"You hungry yet?" he asks, because if they sit out here much longer he's going to do something monumentally stupid, like ask her to say yes to their forever.

"I could eat," she says, getting to her feet and offering her hand to him. He hauls himself up, overdoing it so Kate loses her balance and crashes into his chest. He keeps her there for a moment, will never tire of Kate's body against his, and then he drops his arms. Rick collects the towels they slung over the railing of the dock but apparently didn't need, sliding his feet back into flip flops and following her up the path back towards the cabin.

Inside, he drops the towels onto the couch and disappears into the bedroom for a moment, hunting through the dresser drawer for a shirt to pull on. There's something he just finds completely gross about eating while he's topless, and he can't bring himself to do it even for Kate's appreciative gaze.

She's already on the couch when he comes back out, having pulled back on the shorts she wore to walk down to the lake, and she extends a hand to him in invitation when she sees him. He settles next to her and Kate drapes herself half over him, carving slices straight from the block of cheese and pushing them past his lips. She eats crackers, licking the salt from her fingers after each one, and he doesn't even notice his own lunch until he's almost full.

"Want some grapes?" she asks, picking them from the vine and bursting them between her teeth, her toes tapping a rhythm against the arm of the couch. He nods and she feeds them to him, one at a time and letting her thumb linger at his bottom lip after each.

They work through the whole bunch, and then Kate shifts the detritus of their meal to the coffee table and brings her arms up to curl at her chest, peering at him. "What would you like to do later?"

"I don't mind," he shrugs. Honestly, he'd be perfectly content to stay here on this couch with her. Maybe for the rest of his life.

"You don't need to. . .do any writing?"

He pauses to take her in, wondering what this is about. Is she worried that she's impeding him from doing his job? "I could write, but I've got plenty of time before my deadlines. So honestly, I'd rather focus on you right now."

"Aren't you focused on me when you're writing about Nikki?" she hums, playing coy, and he chokes on his laughter. That's the Beckett he was expecting, confident in this thing between them, and he leans in to take her mouth in reward.

Before he really knows what's happening he's got her under him on the couch, legs wide to contain hers, and he's peeling the strap of her swimsuit down a little. His mouth opens at the smooth skin of her shoulder, teeth grazing, and he tastes the faint hint of sunscreen.

"You're on my mind all the time. Every moment of the day."

"You're on mine too," she admits, fisting her hands in his hair to drag his head away and see him. A shadow passes over her face and for a moment he doesn't recognise her at all, alarmed at the changeling underneath him.

Kate nudges him off of her and comes upright, folding her legs underneath herself and taking his hands in her own. She gnaws at her lip a moment, her thumbs absently circling over the twin thud of his pulse in each wrist, and then she lifts her eyes to meet his.

"Every time I saw something unusual on the subway, or I had a particularly great takeout meal, or I ran out of shampoo, I wanted to call you and tell you about it. All of last year, I thought about you constantly, what you would say about everything that happened. And I'm so sorry, Castle. We could have had this so much earlier."

"Hey, no, shh," he soothes, but her gaze is caught on the bare slopes of her knees. This won't do. "Kate. Look at me. Hey."

"Sorry," she whispers when she meets his eyes, and he's astonished to find that hers are swimming a little.

Rick reaches out for her, brings her in to curl up in his arms, and he rocks her like a child. Like he used to do for his daughter when she was hurting, when she needed him to make the world okay, and he kisses the crown of Kate's head. "Don't ever be sorry for taking the time to heal. It got you to this point, where you can do this with me now, and I'm so grateful."

"You are?"

"I am," he assures her, cupping the curve of her skull where her head rests at his shoulder. "You were smart, Kate. You made the choice not to ruin us, and I could never resent you for that."

She lets out a trembling sigh, one hand fisted in the material of his t-shirt, and he wants to weep for her. With her, maybe. He keeps forgetting, because he gets to see so many of her smiles now, that Kate still carries a lot of hurt. The tentative deal with Bracken weighs heavy on her, rots away at her insides, but he didn't know she still hurts over them too.

"No more of this, Beckett. No more regrets. Let's just be here together, in this moment. What do you say?"

"Yeah," she nods, her voice already stronger, and she pulls out of their embrace to look at him. "Sorry. I don't. . .know what happened there."

He smiles for her, kisses her cheek, and relief washes through him at finding only her smooth, warm skin. No actual tears, then. Good. "S'okay, sometimes I get emotional about this too."

"You do?"

"Of course," he shrugs, but her eyes are sharp on him, a huntress. He can't play this one off as self-deprecating, so instead he wheels right around and faces her head on. "I waited a year and a half for you, Kate Beckett. So yes, getting to be with you now is pretty overwhelming."

She hesitates, taking the time to let him know she's heard and understood, and then Kate stands up from the couch and gathers the lunch things from the coffee table. "You want anything else to eat?"

"I'm good," he assures her, feeling the gravity of their conversation sloughing off of him in great waves of relief. He remains on the couch as Kate moves for the kitchen, twisting to watch her go from over the back of it. "Let's go outside, take a walk or something."

She turns back to face him, raw surprise taking hold of her. "You wanna do that? I thought you'd be too tired after swimming."

"I'm good. Those grapes really hit the spot."

Kate laughs, tipping her head back and smiling so wide he sees all her teeth, and she makes a detour to come back and kiss him, leaning over the couch to dust her lips over his. It remains light, gentle, and he understands what she isn't saying. Not quite ready to do any more emotional heavy lifting.

"A walk sounds great. Let me put these away and I'll change?"

"I'll do it," he says, coming around the couch and taking the block of cheese and the sleeve of crackers from her, exchanging them for a kiss to her cheek. "You go make yourself proper."

The smell of the lake water rolls off her swimsuit when she shifts and it's good, rugged and earthy in a way he'd never known to expect from Kate, but he's going to have a hell of a time concentrating for the rest of the day unless she puts a real shirt on.

"Okay," she smiles, glancing down at herself a moment before she looks at him. "Any preference?"

He lets a groan come rumbling up out of his chest at that, grateful for the incapacitation of his hands, and his eyes slide closed. "You're perfect in anything."


	4. Chapter 4

**Living is Easy**

* * *

After only a short distance, Kate's calves start protesting. They're not carrying anything with them except water, planning only to explore the woods a little bit, and she even took the time to put on her old walking boots instead of sneakers, found them waiting for her in the entryway. Apparently the swimming earlier took more of a toll than she initially thought, because with each step her muscles tighten, just beginning to voice their unhappiness.

She likes it this way, likes to push her body right to the very edge of what it's capable of, so as long as Castle remains bumbling and cheerful at her side she can keep going indefinitely. They pick their way through the underbrush, careful to stay close to the trail that Kate and her father marked out one summer.

Her mother was never really interested in exploring with them, usually preferring to curl up and use the time to read. It was Castle's books, in the last few years they came to the cabin, and Kate remembers her teenage self huffing and nudging at Johanna, teasing her mother about her crush on the young writer.

Oh, how her mom would laugh to see her now.

Kate reaches for her partner's hand and nudges her fingers between his, swamped with guilt at how she had made fun of his books, and her mother for reading them. Before her mom died, she never bothered to read one of his novels for herself, thought she was above them. It wasn't until after her murder that Kate devoured each one of Castle's books, felt her mother's touch in every page turned.

"You're quiet," he says to her, lifting a branch that hangs low down over the path so Kate can duck underneath. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," she smiles, squeezing his hand. At lunch yesterday Joe almost spilled how much Kate's mother had loved Castle's writing, and she wonders if he's still thinking about it or whether it has slipped his mind. Either way, it's important to her that he know. She needs to tell him how much his writing means to her, but maybe not here in the woods. She'll do it later, maybe pull out her mother's old copy of _In a Hail of Bullets_ and show him the parts she'd underlined, the pages thin with love.

Now that she's made the decision to tell him she can relax again, and Kate glances around herself. Up ahead, she spots the little clearing she found one summer, the strange tree stump hollowed out into a chair that looks like it grew that way all on its own.

"This is the farthest I made it, last summer," she says, stepping into the space and letting go of his hand. She sinks to sit, arranging herself just right so that a particular knobbly lump doesn't dig into her spine. "It took me weeks, but I was determined I was gonna get here and sit in this tree."

"Oh," he says, hovering a little way away from her. Still flirting with the edge of the clearing, really, and that won't do. Kate reaches out a hand to him, wiggling her fingers, and he steps close enough to kiss the crown of her head.

Letting her eyes slip closed, she rests her temple against his stomach and conjures up the story, offering it up to him like a gift. "The summer I was nine, there was a huge storm. It was predicted to be bad enough that my dad wanted us to go back to the city. He was worried that trees would fall onto the house, but Mom was determined to stay put."

"I guess I know where you got your stubbornness from," he smirks, tugging gently on the end of her braid.

"Yeah," Kate laughs, surprised to find that the memory of her mom's folded arms, her refusal to leave their home, only fills her with happiness and tender amusement. Not the thick clog of grief. "Anyway, Dad was right. The storm was crazy. I was trying so hard to pretend I wasn't scared, but Mom came to my room in the middle of the night to bring me into their bed."

She had been a gangly, awkward preteen back then, determined to strike out on her own, but Kate hadn't fought against it, had slipped right in between the sheets and curled up to her mother. It wasn't the storm itself that made her afraid, but rather the creaking groan of the woods, and she couldn't stop thinking about the baby deer she had caught a brief glimpse of earlier in the week.

"Did anything happen to the house?"

"No, it was fine," she glances up at him, sees the hunger for knowledge in his eyes. "But in the morning, Dad and I went out to see how much the forest had suffered. This tree had been struck by lightning and split, toppled right over. It had been huge; I remember I couldn't believe how easily it seemed to have fallen."

Castle murmurs his agreement, spreads a palm wide at the wing of her shoulder blade. "I always hate it when the really old trees come down. It's so sad to lose them."

"When my dad and some of his buddies cleared the tree away, the stump was in this chair shape. Like. . .like it was supposed to happen. And I thought, this tree gave its life for us to have someplace to sit." He stares at her, face trapped underneath a mask of hesitation and Kate laughs, hears the echo of her amusement through the woods. "I know, pretty deep for a nine year old."

"Just a little," he grins, and then Castle sinks to his knees and catches her hand, brings it up to his mouth to press a scattering of kisses to her knuckles. "Did any other trees fall?"

"No, only this one. It was like it sacrificed itself to save the others."

She had been humbled, then, watching as the carcass of the old elm was dragged through the forest to be chopped up. Enough kindling for the whole town, but Kate had squirrelled herself away to mourn the loss, weep a little. There had been work to do, detritus to clear away, and when they were finished the area around the tree stump was flat and sparse like a crash site. Ever since then, she's made the trip to visit the space every time that she stays at the cabin, pay her respects.

"I almost didn't make it. Last year. I would get a few steps down the path and have to stop, exhausted. But it. . .kept me going. I just wished I had someone to lean on."

It was stupid, reckless of her to shut him out. Castle would have carried her here if she'd asked him to, and instead she turned her back on him. On her partner. Kate glances at him, kneeling at her feet, and his face is dark and bruised-looking, a hematoma of anger blossoming.

"Let's go back," he says, and then he stands and turns away from her, forges on ahead and leaves Kate alone with only the woods for company.

* * *

Castle bites his tongue for the rest of the afternoon. He is trying so goddamn hard to be okay with it, to let Kate reminisce about the summer she spent here, the healing that she did without him. Only, she keeps making these little remarks about how she wishes she hadn't been alone, and he's scoring deep lines into the chopping board with the force of his aggression.

Broccoli surrenders under the knife, florets peeling apart from the main stem, and he drops them into the pot and lets water splash up and over the rim. Kate is hovering close by, a pesky dark spot at the corner of his vision, but he shooed her away when she offered to help with dinner and she hasn't said a word since.

He puts the lid on the pot and clears away the mess he's made, running the cutting board under the stream of hot water from the faucet as if that can erase the scars he's carved into the plastic. After he's done tidying, the countertops wiped clean, the timer beeps at him and he stabs the button to get it to shut the hell up, the noise rattling around his head like a shrill bird in the early morning.

After everything is plated up he moves to sit at the counter, careful to leave an empty stool between them, and Kate glances over at him, holding herself stiff as if she's been wounded. Well, Beckett, so has he, and she keeps pouring salt onto the raw strips of his skin every time she opens her mouth.

"Thanks for dinner," she gives him a hesitant smile, and he lifts the tumbler in front of him to take a sip of water. "It's nice to be cooked for. All of last summer I barely ate, because I couldn't face standing in front of the cooker to make a proper meal. I would have given anything to have someone do it for me,"

Rick slams his glass down onto the counter, hard enough that the water inside sloshes violently, a wave that crests up and onto the granite. He stands, stalking away from her with his hands in fists, and he hears her quiet gasp, half of his name. He really doesn't want to yell at her, not when they had such a wonderful morning, a wonderful few weeks, but he can't be in the same room with her right now. Another step away from her, and he hears the sob she tries to stifle.

"Castle, what have I done? Please talk to me," she grits out, her voice already so weary, and the battle is only just beginning. God, it's always going to be like this for them, isn't it? They're always going to slice each other open.

He comes back, of course he does, because even when his body vibrates with anger he can't bear to see her upset. There's a ring of condensation forming around his water glass and he picks it up, takes a slow drink to buy himself some time. It's important he get the words right, doesn't just blurt out the ugly truth of his heart, and he makes himself take a few slow breaths before he speaks.

"Do you have any idea what it was like, last summer?" he starts, and she pales. "Every single day, I waited for you to call. Every day I thought, surely this is enough time. But you never did."

"Castle, I wanted to call you. I wanted you here."

A growl tears through him and he pushes a hand through his hair, yanks a little bit. The flint of pain clears his head, brings focus, and he raises his eyes to meet hers. "I know you wanted me. You keep saying it, Beckett. How much you missed me. Like it's my fault I wasn't here."

"That's not- I didn't-"

"You're my partner. My best friend," he chokes out, grief opening its ugly maw and snapping at him. "You let me watch you die, and then you disappeared. Every night I dreamed it, saw you fading out over and over again, and you didn't let me have any other image to replace it with. I just wanted to be there for you."

Kate bows her head, the dinner he cooked sitting untouched in front of her, and he's astonished to see she's still wearing the swimsuit from this morning under her tank top. It feels like another life, a dream world slipping through the lake with her, and he wishes he could plunge his hands in to the water and drag those happier versions of themselves out, let his rage be the thing to drown.

"I didn't mean to make you think it was your fault. Not any of it. It's because of me that you weren't there. I was a coward."

"Yes," he spits, so glad for the island between them. "You were. And I thought I had forgiven you for that, but. . ."

"You haven't."

Rick shakes his head, suddenly just exhausted with this entire ordeal. When Kate showed up at his door, drenched with rain and wanting, he was naive enough to think that the fight was over. That he had her, and he could take the time to rest his weary bones. Stupid of him.

"But earlier you said you don't resent me," she says softly.

"I don't. I know you were healing, and it was what you needed to do, I just can't bear to hear the details. I can picture all of it, all the ways I could have helped you, and it's making me crazy. I don't want to be angry at you, Beckett."

That earns him a nod from her, but her shoulders remain hunched and gnarled looking like an old beggar, her body braced for impact. "I was just trying to give you the story. Fill in the parts you missed."

"You're doing it again," he yells, feels the purple throb of a vein in his forehead. His anger is irrational, and he should have been over it months ago, but he's not. He's not, and he can't keep going like this. "I missed it because of _you_. Because you wouldn't let me be here."

"Castle-"

"I can't do this right now," he grits out, jaw so tight that he feels the ache flare in his temples, and he strides away from her and out of the back door.

* * *

For a long moment, Kate sits at the counter and doesn't even let herself breathe, feels the rippling aftershock of their fight move through the room. And then she stands, collects both of their plates and starts the work of cleaning up. The food gets scraped right into the trash and her chest seems to shrink, no longer enough room for her organs to nestle together.

He made this dinner for her, and she ruined it because even now she can't stop being selfish. All she wanted to do was try and give him the story of what that summer was like, let him know how much she wishes she was brave enough to let him be there. She never, ever meant to make him think it was his fault.

Kate rinses their plates and sets them on the counter to wash later, but her body is still trembling. She wants to run, let her feet swallow up the miles until she's too exhausted to feel it, but Castle was the one to walk out this time and she needs to be here when he comes back.

God, what if he doesn't come back?

A moan spills out of her and Kate sinks down to the hardwood, drawing her knees up to her chest and pressing her eyes to them. She feels the crunch of bone, the bursts of colour that pop like overripe fruit and she lifts her head again, drops it back against the cabinet instead. The sobs come quickly, too thick, and she sinks her teeth into the back of her hand.

She couldn't help but notice that he hasn't gone far, only strayed a few yards from the cabin, and she doesn't want him to hear the wet clog of her grief. It's too close to last summer, cowering because she heard a twig snap in the woods, and is this where she still is? After a year, still sobbing and terrified and without him.

It takes a long while for her tears to stop and when they do her face is salt slick, skin like a mask pulled too tight. Kate wipes her palms over her cheeks and stands, hands braced against the countertop and head bowed for a moment before she straightens.

No more of this. No more grieving. She will give him the time he needs, let him have space because god, what kind of hypocrite would she be if she didn't? And when he comes back - he will - she'll make him understand. Put in the work, until he knows that it was only the memory of his love that kept her going at all, his words kept close to her heart so as it healed they were wound into the scar tissue.

Kate fills the sink with hot water, pours dish soap into the stream of the faucet so bubbles erupt at the bottom, and she washes their dinner things. It's too hot, scalding her, but Kate barely even feels it as she slides each dish under the water, scrubs it with a sponge and sets it on the rack to dry.

Halfway through, she hears him come back inside, his presence making her go cold as the grave and sag with relief all at once. He doesn't move closer to her; in the reflection of the window over the sink she can see him standing by the fireplace, his back to her.

She finishes cleaning the dishes, dries them all and puts them away before she musters the courage to even turn and look at him. He must tell from the silence that she's finished tidying up the aftermath of their awful meal, because he turns slowly to see her. As if on an axis, a rod through his spine, and her heart weeps for him.

"I'm sorry," he starts, and in the light of the living room she sees the angry, swollen red of bug bites along his legs and arms. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Kate lifts one shoulder, finds the courage to come around the kitchen island. Still the couch between them, but now she's close enough to see every shift of his face. "I deserved it."

"No, you didn't. This is my problem, not yours. I should be over it by now."

"You never had a chance to get over it," she says, taking another handful of steps until she can rest her hands on the back of the couch. "When I. . .came back, you dove right in to helping me on the case. You only got to be angry at me for five minutes, and clearly that wasn't enough."

He shakes his head, but he moves to sit on the couch and pats the cushion next to him, waits until she comes around to settle at his side. Not touching, but closer than they were at dinner. Closer than they've been all afternoon.

"I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at the universe, for making this so difficult for us."

Kate rests her elbow at the back of the couch, propping her head in her hand, and she manages a tiny smile for him. "Things have never been easy between you and me. Isn't that what makes it so worthwhile?"

"I don't want to fight with you," he sighs, covering his face with one hand even as he reaches for hers with the other. His skin is clammy, but his touch undoes the knot of sick tension in her chest and allows her to take a deep breath. "I just don't know how to. . .to get over it. I missed you."

He looks like a little boy, wide-eyed and hurting, and she's overwhelmed with the silly urge to mother him. "I thought it would help you, if I told you what it was like. And that was stupid of me. I should have asked you first."

"No, no," he squeezes her fingers, her knuckles crunching together in his bear paw. "I do appreciate the story. I really do. Just- maybe you could word it a little differently? So it doesn't sound like you resent me for not being here."

"I never blamed you for one second. I promise you that," she says gently, drawing her knees up underneath her. One of them nudges Castle's thigh and it seems to jolt a smile out of him, fingers tracing the length of her shin. "Castle. . .every day that I was here, I was ashamed. I wanted to be better, to be stronger, but I couldn't. And I didn't want you to see me that way, because I thought-"

She cuts herself off, embarrassed even now by how stupid she was, but Castle strokes the rickety ladder of her braid, touches the pad of his thumb to the corner of her mouth. "What did you think?"

"I thought maybe you wouldn't love me anymore when I wasn't Detective Beckett."

"Kate," he gasps, staring at her like he doesn't know who she is. He captures her face between his palms and his mouth meets hers, tongue working her carefully, with calculation until she moans, wanting to slide her knee over his lap and grind down. "I've always loved you. Every part of who you are. But you're right."

Her whole body goes stiff with panic, but he doesn't let her go, fingers still working at her nape and low down at the flare of her spine. She stares, waits for him to explain, and he smiles as he brushes his nose against hers.

"I would have driven you crazy. We'd have wound up hating each other."

A giggle escapes her, a little delirious with relief, and she bites her lip. "Do you need me to not talk about it?"

"No," he says after a long pause, and his answer is firm and resolute. "I do appreciate that you're willing to share it with me. I can handle it."

"I don't want to hurt you."

He laughs, shaking his head and gathering her up into his lap, squeezing until she huffs a breath and puts a hand at his chest to earn herself a little bit of room. "I'm a big boy, Kate. You won't hurt me."

Kate shifts on top of him until her knees bracket his pelvis, rolling her hips and sifting her fingers through his hair. He pants, gasping against the hollow of her throat and she uses her grip to pull his head up and swallow the sound with her mouth.

* * *

"You know," he says casually, over preparations of a second dinner. She's flirting with him this time, coy and shy as she lets her body dance around his in the kitchen, and he feels infinitely better. "We really should fight more often."

"What? Why?"

She's frowning when he turns to face her fully and he grins, reels her in with an arm around her waist to kiss away her pout. "Because it elevates our already amazing sex to a level I didn't previously think possible."

"Oh," she laughs, tilting her head and running a palm down his chest to curl three fingers in the waistband of his shorts. "No. I don't like fighting with you. Even the sex isn't worth it."

He doesn't want her to get caught up in it, get maudlin, and he nuzzles at the smooth patch of skin behind her ear until she opens up on a smile. His mouth works at her, tongue darting out again and again to catch traces of the way she tastes, and then the soup on the stovetop begins to bubble and he has to let her go. Rick turns the heat off from under it and decants their dinner into two bowls, collects the bread rolls he put into the oven to warm.

Not as fancy as the dinner he cooked earlier, the meal neither of them even tasted, but it's fast and homely and didn't require too much of his attention. Meant he was able to work at her until he was sure she wasn't upset anymore. After their round on the couch, again on the floor, he lay with her in his arms and kissed the silvery tracks at her cheeks, did his best to let her know how much he adores her.

It took him by surprise, how much anger he was still harbouring, but he feels washed clean now. Pure and serene, like the stream they came across earlier, and he's content with her explanation. She wanted him here, but she was afraid, and it would have been a disaster.

"Where do you want to eat?" he asks, passing her a bowl and wrapping the bread in a clean dishcloth so as not to burn his fingers. "Outside?"

Kate frowns, glancing towards the french doors, and shakes her head at him. "No, it's too dark now. The table?"

"Sure," he smiles, craning his neck to dust a kiss to her cheek as she moves past him. Eating at the kitchen island is, unspoken, a no go right now. Too much like a war zone. But there's a dining table too, rectangular and nestled into the breakfast nook, and he kind of wants to sit opposite her and nudge his feet in between hers.

They sit in pleasant silence for a little while, sneaking the occasional coquettish glance at one another, and he feels so at peace he could cry. Kate's bare feet end up on top of his, her toes wiggling, and he grins at her around his spoon.

Absolutely smitten, and it's true he can't really remember a time he hasn't felt naive and foolish around her, but it's gotten ridiculous since they started dating. "Soup's okay?"

"Really good," she nods, slurping it from her spoon. Her free hand reaches across the table and he expects her to take his, spreads his fingers in anticipation. Instead, she touches a fingertip to each of his knuckles one at a time, strokes the back of his hand as if she's collecting spiderwebs. "Are you gonna be full enough? Lot of exertion today."

"I'm fine," he assures her, flipping his hand over to catch hers and circling his thumb over her skin. "Just tired. Ready to fall into bed with you."

"You're okay outside again? You can take my bed and I'll take the couch if you want."

"After what we just did on it?" he wrinkles his nose at her, delighted in the giggle she doesn't bother to hide.

A shoulder lifts at him and she smirks, that sexy grin that always makes him aroused and a little bit frightened, too. "If I thought like that, nothing in this house would be sacred by the end of our trip."

"Kate Beckett," he gasps, mock outrage, but his pulse thunders in his neck and his mouth goes dry as paper. "I-"

"Don't say you never," she cuts in, rolling her eyes at him. "You're the one who made that very detailed list of all the places you want to have me on our way up here."

Just the way she says _have her_ makes his tongue thick and useless, his brain rolling over in search of something witty or sexy or at least coherent to fire back at her. There's nothing, the baser parts of him taking over, so he lifts his feet to make hers bounce and slurps down the last of his soup. Once the warmth of it hits his belly he remembers her original question and he smiles, lifts her hand to his cheek and cradles it there.

"I'm fine outside. As long as I get to snuggle with you, I'm fine anywhere."

"I'll rinse the dishes, then. You go get ready for bed," she rises from her chair, stopping on her way to the kitchen and brushing a kiss to his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "I'll meet you there."

He's so tired, really he is, but parts south of his waist are stirring again in want and he hurries through the motions, hopping from foot to foot as he brushes his teeth, tugs on pajama pants and an old t-shirt. On his way outside he passes her, whirls her around in his arms just because he can and she laughs, shaking her head at him.

She took the braid out before they ate and her hair is a riot of gorgeous waves, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. She reminds him of a mermaid or a siren, beautiful and deadly, and he kisses her mouth so her song can't drag him down to drowning.

"Let me go get ready," she says softly, stretching up onto tiptoe and aligning her body with his. "And then I'll come and cuddle you."

It doesn't take very long, or maybe time flies when he's thinking of her, and then Kate climbs into bed with him and wriggles right up to his side, nestling her head in the slope where his shoulder meets his neck. He tugs the covers up a little, tucks them tight around their bodies, and he wraps his arms around the woman he loves.

"I'm sorry I was such an idiot today."

"I'm sorry I was such an idiot all of last year," she fires back, darting her tongue out to touch the hollow of his throat. "I'm glad you told me how you were feeling. We have to be able to do that if this is going to work."

He nods, arching his back until he feels the last of the day's tension burst and trickle out of him. "You're right. We have to be honest."

"But Castle, that means with the good things too."

"Beckett," he whispers, burrowing down to get his mouth next to her ear. He grazes his teeth over the soft flesh, feels it warm with arousal. "Are you fishing?"

She huffs, pokes a finger into the soft underbelly of him and he yelps, arches to escape. "Not fishing. Just. . .all of last year you felt like you had to hide your heart from me, and I never wanted that."

"Well then, no more hiding," he beams, shifts to put enough space between them that he can see her. The darkness is absolute, the stars above them like tiny pinholes in a smooth expanse of deep purple velvet, and the waxy, round face of the moon gives him just enough light to see her smile. "I love you, Kate. I did last year, I do now, and I will when we're a hundred."

"You're gonna get there before me."

He pouts, shivering hard at the erotic line her toe draws up his shin. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to romance you."

"And I think it's very sweet, but you don't have to try. You've already got me."

Castle rolls onto his back, curling an arm around her shoulders so she can't stray too far, and he watches the shadows that detach from the woods and swoop across the sky, bats on their way to feed. "Thank you for bringing me here with you. It helps, getting to see where you were."

"I'm glad," she murmurs, voice slurred as sleep drugs her. "Now, sleep. I wanna snuggle you in my dreams."

"Goodnight," he kisses the crown of her head, strokes a soothing hand up and down her arm. Whispers his love, again, but she's already out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Living is Easy**

* * *

For the first time since they started doing this, Kate wakes her partner on purpose. She almost always comes awake too early, sliding right out of unconsciousness. Her body still wants to get up and dressed for work, and usually she creeps out of his bed or hers in the early hours of the morning, tiptoes through to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee and let Castle get another couple of hours in. Sometimes the shift of her weight or the loss of her warmth will wake him, but more often than not he sleeps right through her absence.

She's been there when his eyes have opened, been the first thing he sees, but never before has she pulled him up into wakefulness with her. Kate cards her fingers through his hair, fluffy and flopping all over the place. Her hand comes down, thumb smoothing over his eyelid, and she leans in to press her lips to his cheek, shifts across to his ear.

"Castle, wake up. Come on, you can do it," she chuckles at his groan, his attempt to roll over blocked by her body. An arm snakes out from underneath the covers and falls over his eyes, a growl rumbling low in his throat and sounding like the shift of the mountains as the earth comes awake.

It's light out, at least; she's been up for a few hours but she waited until the sun lifted into the sky, forced herself to drink another cup of tea and stop pacing. The early morning light seems filtered, pure and clean as it comes up to the bed and licks at the sheets, splashes onto Castle's face.

His nose scrunches and then one eye peels open, restless for a moment before it settles on her. "Kate? Time'sit?"

"Almost seven," she says, lets him hear the apology in her voice. He moans and turns onto his stomach, his arm crashing over her like a felled oak to bring her flat to the mattress, tuck her in against his body. The book jabs her in the side, right at the soft place underneath her ribs, and she hisses.

It gets his attention at least and his eyes pop open, still a little drowsy but growing sharper with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Poked me."

"It's _morning_ ," he whines before she can explain and she can't help her laughter, shaking her head and tugging on his earlobe. Her body slides closer to his, the book safely on her other side now, and Kate opens her mouth at his throat and touches her tongue to the scrape of stubble.

"Not that," she hums, reaching down underneath the sheets to curl her fingers around him. "I have something to show you."

His whole body jolts, her touch a livewire that threads through him, and the pitiful sound he makes as his hips lift wipes her smile clean off. It's cruel to do this to him so early, especially when she has no intention of following through right now, so Kate drops her hand from him and sits up in the bed.

The mechanism for the lounger is a little tricky sometimes, but eventually she manages it and brings her side up into a sitting position. Like this, she can't really see his face, and Kate settles her hand on top of the rise of his hip, the sheets protecting him from the assault of her touch.

He always struggles, has to wade out of unconsciousness, and it takes a handful of minutes for him to sit up and raise his side of the lounger in echo of hers. In the mornings he's uncoordinated, always looking faintly surprised when his limbs refuse to obey him, and his little frown makes her stupidly soft. Kate gets to her knees and leans in, kisses the ridges of his brow and drops down to his mouth, working at his bottom lip.

"Mm, Kate," he breathes, tugging away from her a little and bringing a clumsy hand up to cup her cheek, his movements jerky as a marionette. "What did you want to show me?"

Right. There was a plan to her waking him up. An apology for yesterday.

Kate rummages underneath the sheets until she comes up with the book, cradling it to her chest. It's so old, so well loved, that the dustcover is long gone and the book itself is held together with parcel tape. "This was my mother's favourite book."

"Oh," he breathes, shifting in the bed until he's facing her a little more. Castle doesn't try to take it from her, or even see what it is, and she's so grateful for the way he waits her out.

"This was her first copy. She had to buy another, because this one started falling apart on her. I had the second copy in my apartment when it exploded, but this one was always kept at the cabin, so it wasn't destroyed." She still remembers the grief, kneeling in the rubble and ash that had once been her bookshelves. Castle replaced her books, not just his own but _all of them_ , and she's struck all over again by his kindness even in those early days.

"I'm glad this one was safe."

Kate nods, offers him a small smile. Her fingers are tracing patterns onto the cover, absentminded whirling, and she takes a deep breath. This is so important, and she cannot screw it up. "Castle. . .this is _In a Hail of Bullets_."

His mouth falls open and he stares at her, struck silent by the revelation. Kate opens the book, careful not to put pressure on the tired old spine, the book's flaking skeleton. The title page is inked with his writing, a little faded now, but Kate still remembers it word for word.

"This was before you started signing the dust covers," she grins, nudging an elbow into him, but he doesn't laugh like she hoped. Doesn't make a sound, and she can't help but fill the silence with her nervous chattering. "She stood in line for hours. Dad and I teased her for days, but she barely even seemed to hear it. After you signed it, she carried this book around with her for a while, everywhere she went. My mom. . .really loved your novels."

"She did?" he breathes, reaching out to take the book from her. She lets it go, watches as he handles it with as much reverence as he shows her when he has the long stretch of her naked body under him. "Why did you never tell me that?"

Kate chews on her lip, draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Suddenly feeling so small, and she hasn't even told him the rest. "I was afraid you would make fun."

"I'd never."

"I know that now. But when we first met, I didn't think you were capable of taking anything seriously. And I couldn't handle you teasing me about this."

He reaches for her, one arm wrapped around the book to keep it against his chest and the other curling around her shoulders, bringing her in to a sideways embrace. "I am so honoured that your mother liked my books, Kate. I wish I could remember meeting her."

"It's okay," she smiles, snuggling closer to the sleepy warmth of his body and nuzzling her nose into the curve of his neck. "I'm just glad that she met you at all. That. . .she approved of you. She would think it's hilarious that we're together now."

"She would?"

Kate laughs, sitting up a little more so she can look at his face. Make sure not to hurt him with this. "I wasn't exactly kind to her about it, Castle. I used to tease her about her crush on you all the time. And I refused to read your books. I was only fifteen when she went to the signing. I thought I was so smart. Too busy with Tolstoy to bother even skimming one of yours."

"Right," he nods, dejected, and Kate leans in to nudge her nose against his, steal a kiss from him.

"And then she was murdered. She had every novel you'd written, and I devoured them all. It felt like I already knew the characters, because she talked about them so much. So it was like spending time with her friends. I felt her presence in every page, her voice in my ear telling me she knew I'd love your books. Your writing got me through my mother's death, Rick."

His silence unnerves her and Kate ducks her head, can't manage to meet his eyes for this. She does trust him, of course she does, but she's just given him handfuls of fodder to tease her with and she braces for it, lungs struggling through emptiness.

"My books helped you?" he whispers, fumbling for her hand and clutching it to his chest. His heart pounds, his pulse roaring, and she nods slowly. "God, Kate. I'm so glad. I'm so glad I could help you at all, even if I wasn't there with you."

She's not sure he really needs to hear the next part, but they did promise each other to be honest, and it's important he know the truth. "That's why I was so disappointed when we first met. You were my favourite author, and I kind of idolised you. Just a little bit. And then you turned out to have that stupid playboy persona."

"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispers, two fingers at her chin to lift her face. His kiss is slow and gentle, reverent, and a shiver tears through her when his hand works into her hair, tilting her head to angle her so his tongue can slide past her lips.

When he breaks away from her mouth, his forehead rests at her cheek a moment and she feels his face shift, a smile blooming slowly. He pulls back to look at her, delight making his grin lopsided, and he chuckles. "Does this mean you really were a member of my fansite?"

"Yeah," she huffs, pressing a palm to her cheek to stifle the flush of embarrassment. "I used to DVR your talk show appearances."

He startles, reflexively clutching the book tighter to his chest. "You did that?"

"Uh-huh. So I always knew you had that womaniser thing going on, but when I met you I hoped you'd drop the act. Admit that it wasn't really you."

"I should have done a lot sooner. Probably would have if I'd known I was shadowing my number one fan," he leers, and Kate rolls her eyes. It's good though, helps her shake off her sadness before it can really start to clutch at her.

No use getting maudlin about it when they're here now. "That's why Nikki Heat matters so much to me. You're my favourite author, and it's an honour to be your inspiration."

She hasn't told him that she stood in line to get her book signed, but that can wait until they're back in the city. Her copy of _Storm Warning_ had been in her car when her apartment blew up, left over from a weekend trip to a coffee shop, and although she doesn't believe in magic or fate, she can't help but feel like a higher power was at work to keep the novel safe.

"You ready to get out of bed?" she murmurs to him, stretching her arms above her head to feel the tension pour out of her shoulders and her spine.

He makes an affronted noise and climbs out of bed for only a second, setting her mother's book on the side table before he comes back to her and crawls across the sheets, pins her body under his. "Absolutely not. I want to show you just how much you inspire me."

The line makes her roll her eyes, wriggling under the press of his torso, but then he brings his thigh up to nudge between hers and she gasps, arching. He can say whatever he wants as long as he doesn't _stop_.

* * *

"I wanna bake," Kate announces after they're dressed and showered, both full up with breakfast. She stands in the kitchen with one hand on her hip and the other pressed to her mouth; the open cabinet in front of her isn't exactly empty, but - he realises when he props his chin on her shoulder and echoes her scrutiny - it doesn't have any ingredients. No flour, no sugar; nothing they can use to make cake or cookies or whatever is on her mind.

Rick presses a smacking kiss to her cheek, arms sliding around her middle to squeeze tight and lift her off the ground for a moment. She squeaks, clutching at his forearms and he sets her down again. "You wanna go back to the store, get some ingredients?"

"Yes, actually," she nods, twisting her hair around a finger as she gazes into the belly of the cabinet again. "I was thinking too, it looks like it's going to be a beautiful day, so maybe we could grab some stuff and have a barbecue for dinner?"

"Sounds great!" he blurts, his enthusiasm enough that Kate turns over her shoulder to lift an eyebrow at him. He shrugs, a little more sheepish now, but still so excited. The thrill of being at the cabin has yet to wear off. "I don't get to barbecue much in the city. Or at the Hamptons actually, since Alexis doesn't like it. So that sounds awesome."

She watches him for a moment and then she nods, a small smile quirking at one corner of her mouth. "Alright. And while we're back in town, we can go see the bridge."

"What bridge?"

"I didn't tell you about it?"

He shakes his head and she grins, closing the door of the cabinet and heading for the entryway where her shoes are all piled up. He's seen her apartment, seen how she is at _his_ apartment, so her willingness to leave her stuff in a messy heap while they're at the cabin keeps taking him by surprise. Vacation Kate, apparently, is not so concerned with tidying up.

She holds on to his arm to keep her balance while she fastens her sandals, the little buckle more fiddly than he thinks a shoe has any right to be, and when she's done she uses her grip to stretch up and kiss his bottom lip. "It's a covered bridge over the river. I always thought it was awesome. I'll tell you the story when we're there."

"Okay," he grins, kissing her again before he searches for his sneakers in amongst her shoes, tugs them on hastily. She disappears for a moment, coming back to his side with her wallet and phone and the car keys. He checks his pockets for his own phone, cash and his cards in their special pockets inside the case. "Let's go."

She doesn't let him drive, but he's come to love watching her behind the wheel, and he's long given up his whining about it. They park in the grocery store lot again - apparently the only place to leave your car in the whole of the tiny town. He's still at the point of being interested, but he can see how quickly he might start to find it claustrophobic if he had to live someplace like this.

It's true of Beckett, too; she told him that's why she came back earlier than everyone expected her to last summer. Listening to the crickets and having everyone in town clucking over her drove her crazy.

"This way," she says when they're out of the car, tugging on his hand to lead him with her. He goes slowly, busy peering at all of the houses they're walking past, but his girlfriend doesn't try to hurry him along, doesn't complain or tell him he's being boring.

Instead, she holds tight to his hand and follows his gaze, brow furrowing in concentration as if she's trying to see whatever it is that he sees. It's so different from Manhattan that he can't believe it only took them a couple of hours to get here, feels as if he's exploring the terrain of an alien planet.

Everybody that they come across seems to know Kate and her family, stopping her to say hello and see how she is, ask after her father. He's so fascinated by this side of her, laughing freely and introducing him as _Rick, my partner_. And he's glad too, to see all of these people that were here last summer, keeping an eye on Beckett. She told him that after her dad returned to the city, her neighbours kept coming by with home cooked meals for her until she ran out of space in the freezer for leftovers.

Even if it couldn't be him, he's glad somebody was taking care of Kate.

"That's the off licence," she grins, nudging his shoulder and gesturing with her head. He sees the building, as simple and unassuming as everywhere else in the town, but Kate's eyes are lit with joy and he waits her out, strokes the back of her hand with his thumb. "The old guy that used to run it, Clive, used to let me come pick up wine for my mom and dad when I was maybe sixteen? I had just learned to drive, and I felt so independent being allowed to come into town and buy alcohol."

He huffs at that, the thought of his own baby girl buying liquor making him bristle. "That's illegal."

"Castle," she laughs, bringing them to a stop and reaching up to straighten the collar of his shirt. "That's how things work in a town this small. His son was the sheriff. Nobody was going to arrest him for letting me bring a bottle of wine home to my parents."

"But what if you'd been reckless? What if you'd drunk it and then crashed the car and _died_ because he thought he was above the law." He's surprised by the horror that rolls through him, the thickness of entirely ridiculous terror that sits in his lungs and makes him turn away from her, suck in a breath.

Silence hangs heavy between them for a beat, and then Kate's arms slide around his waist and her head settles underneath his chin, the weight of her in his arms like a counterbalance to the grief that sinks inside. "It was twenty five years ago. It's not like that anymore, I'm sure. Nothing happened, Castle. I'm okay. Alexis is okay."

Oh, smart woman. She knows that every time someone mentions teenage girls he thinks of his own baby girl, already preparing to go off to college, and he's so afraid that he won't be able to keep her safe.

Kate holds his face steady between her palms, eyes raking over him to make sure that he's alright. And, he's faintly surprised to find, he is. The wound - the thought of either of them dying that way - stung, but it doesn't run deep.

"I'm fine," he says, finding a real smile and offering it up to her. She nods, coming up on tiptoe to kiss him before she settles back down again.

"Come on then. I wanna show you the bridge."

He lets her lead the way, finding that the flare of irritation from late last year doesn't burn into life anymore. No phantom cold of the cuff bracelet around his wrist. They come to a street off the main road through town and he chuckles, squeezes her fingers as if to jostle the same amusement out of her. "Bridge Street. Genius."

"Shush," she huffs, swatting at his chest with her free hand. With him not having to be at the precinct, he's been able to wear t-shirts more often and in turn, Kate can't seem to stop flirting with the swell of his pectoral muscles, the breadth of his shoulders. "It's a landmark."

"Uh-huh," he laughs, and this time she does at least grace him with a smile.

A few yards down the road, the bridge looms before them and he gasps, comes to a standstill. Kate nudges him over to the grass verge at the side of the road and he stumbles a little, her grip on his elbow keeping him upright. "Cool, right?"

"Very cool."

He strides closer, almost forgetting that he's still holding on to his partner until she squeaks and comes along behind him, the heat of her body layered over his spine. Rick stops to read the sign next to the bridge and Kate's arm slides around him, her fingers tucked into the opposite pocket of his shorts.

"They built it in 1854? That's awesome."

"Yeah," she grins, lifting her sunglasses onto the top of her head and shielding her eyes with a hand instead. "It was the second longest covered bridge in the state, and then the hurricane last year took out the one in Schoharie County and now it's the longest."

"Wow," he breathes, transfixed by the history of their surroundings. Eyes closed, he can almost imagine horses and their carriages crossing the bridge, maybe even cowboys riding into town. Okay, probably not in New York, but still. . .it's awesome.

Kate gives him a moment, silent but sticking close to his side, and then she nudges her elbow into his ribcage and smiles. "You wanna walk across it?"

"Yes. Yeah, let's do that."

The town is quiet enough that even though the bridge is technically for traffic and not pedestrians, he's confident it hasn't seen a car in hours, and he meanders across the bridge with Kate's arm hooked through his. They stop in the middle to peek through a gap between the slats and catch a glimpse of the river winding lazily below them.

"Are you imagining us as colonial people?" Kate smirks, her hand splayed between his shoulder blades as he straightens up and turns back around to look at her.

He grins, picturing Kate in a corset and a full skirt. "Maybe a little bit."

Once they make it to the other side, Kate shrugs and clasps her hands in front of her chest, laughing almost at herself. "I know it's not the most exciting thing in the world. But I always thought it was cool because it managed to stay standing for so long."

"That is really cool," he smiles, drawing her in close. The skirt of her dress swishes around her knees, the soft cotton brushing against his legs as well and he shivers, kisses her jawbone before he lifts up to meet her mouth. He keeps his tongue to himself, mindful of their very public location, but Kate is insistent and he has to break away on a breath of gasping laughter. "Can we go back across? I want to look at that gazebo."

"You noticed that? I thought you were only paying attention to the bridge."

He sighs, gathering her under his arm to squeeze her before he lets go again. "I'm a writer, Beckett. I pay attention to everything."

"Right," she nods, suddenly so very serious. "Yes, come on then. Let's go see it."

They're quicker to cross the bridge this time, stopping only to press their bodies against the wall and let a pickup truck go past them. On the other side, back where they started, a lawn slopes down from the road into a grassy expanse that goes right up to the bank of the river. A natural path, where the grass has worn away, leads up to a little wooden gazebo and he heads straight for it.

Rick makes it there first, spinning around to wait for the woman he loves. When she comes to join him, Kate's face softens into a shy little smile and she takes the hand he offers, lets him help her up into the structure. Suddenly, he's struck with the ridiculous urge to dance with her and he wraps both arms around her body, sways a little.

"My mother and Alexis are in Austria. I think today's their last day actually. And Alexis has been emailing me all the details of Mother's antics, her renditions of scenes from _The Sound of Music_."

She gets it immediately, stiffening in his grip and tugging away as far as he'll let her, frowning ferociously. "Oh no. No way. I am not reenacting Sixteen Going On Seventeen with you. Absolutely not."

"Kaaate," he whines, swooping in to press tiny kisses to her neck and shoulder, nibbling a little at the so-soft skin. "Why not? Nobody will see."

"Because, Castle. I'm not sixteen. It's just weird."

He pouts, one hand dropping to trace a line up the back of her thigh, his thumb digging into the muscle that hums just beneath the surface. She gasps, her body canting into his, and his other arm tightens around her waist to keep her upright.

"You don't have to sing. I'll do both parts. Just dance with me?"

"Castle," she sighs, but he lets his front come down, allows her to see how badly he wants it. Just this moment with her, giddy as children and stumbling love-drunk into one another. Kate's eyes soften as she looks at him and her hand comes up, cups his cheek. "Alright. I'll dance."

"You're the best," he breathes, nuzzling his nose against hers and dusting a kiss to her top lip, coming back for more when Kate lifts her chin to chase his mouth.

They don't know the scene exactly, it becomes immediately obvious, but he dances her around the gazebo in a slow waltz, so grateful for the classes his mother made him take as a teenager. _It's important for a gentleman to know how to lead, Richard_.

Kate even steps up onto the benches and lets him get down on one knee, using him as a stepping stone to get to the next seat. By the time they stop dancing they're both choking on breathless laughter and he grabs her arms, bringing her in against him to press a kiss to her mouth. Her hands come to either side of his neck, thumb stroking over his Adam's apple, and she tilts her head to one side.

"Don't run away."

"I would never," he promises, kissing her again. "We're not teenagers. This is for keeps."

She shuffles closer, feet nudging between his and her arms sliding around his neck, their hips nudging together. Her fingers sift through the fine baby hairs at his nape, scratch up over his scalp and he shudders violently, clutches at her. "You didn't sing."

"Didn't have enough breath," he admits, forehead coming to meet hers. "But I'll recite the whole movie for you if you want me to."

"Do you _know_ the whole movie?"

He laughs, loosening his arms around her a little and pressing a kiss to the pale stripe of her scalp where her hair parts. "It was Alexis' favourite movie for a couple of years, and we watched at least twice a week. So yes, actually, I do."

"Okay, well maybe we'll save that for another time?" she smirks, lifting an eyebrow at him and stepping out of his embrace. He lets her lead him out of the gazebo, bounces down from the step and tries to tamper his giddiness a little bit. It's not like he's never danced with Beckett before, but never like that. Never just for the joy of it.

They meander back towards the centre of town, the clasp of their hands a little clammy so that he has to let go a couple of times, wipe his palms off on the fabric of his shorts. "So, did you decide what you wanted to bake?"

"I wanna do key lime pie," she grins, her face suddenly wistful even with her sunglasses hiding most of her expression from him. "It was the first thing my mom ever taught me how to make. The first thing her mother taught her."

"That sounds great," he says softly, not quite sure what she needs from him here. After their conversation earlier this morning, he kind of thought she might not want to talk about her mother for a while. But she's still smiling, still a little goofy with memories of her childhood, and if she wants to share he will always listen.

Kate glances over at him, hair spilling into her face, and she smiles. "The fun of it was always making it with another person. So will you. . .help me?"

"I'd love to," he says easily, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It knocks them off course a little, makes his partner stumble and cling to him. "What do you want to barbecue?"

"I want ribs," she moans, her throat working, and he has to swallow against the dryness of his mouth. "Mm, yes. I love when you can still smell them all over your hands for hours after. Definitely ribs. Unless you wanted something else."

He snorts, shaking his head and bringing them to a stop at the crosswalk. "I'd never be stupid enough to get between a woman and her ribs."

"Oh, and can we have those potatoes you made a couple weeks back? Those were amazing."

"Anything you want," he says softly, stopping her now that they're safely on the other side of the street. There's not much more he can say, no more elaboration needed. Just that he will do anything for her, anything she asks, because he values her happiness so much. Her joy is his joy.

Kate smiles at him, wide and brilliant, and she comes up on tiptoe to kiss him gently. He loves this, the way her body sways into his, is almost dreading going back to the precinct. Not that he doesn't love the heels, love the extra few inches that bring her almost to the same height as him, but he's really going to miss the way she fits against him like this.

"Come on, Rolfe," she hums, the corner of her mouth trembling with amusement. Kate tugs on his hand, bringing him with her down the walkway towards the entrance to the grocery store. "I want pie and ribs."


	6. Chapter 6

**Living is Easy**

* * *

When he glances over at Kate, some little noise she makes tugging him up out of concentration, he can't help the peal of delighted laughter that escapes him. She has a smudge of icing sugar across her cheek, the end of her nose looking suspiciously pale and powdery as well, and he takes a step closer to her.

"You've got it all over you."

"Have I?" she hums, lifting a hand to swipe ineffectively at her face. Inspecting her fingers, she sighs to find them still clean and turns to face him more fully, closing her eyes. "Help me?"

He folds a paper towel and runs it under the stream of the faucet, squeezing out the excess water and resting two fingers at her chin to lift her face just a little. "Too cold?"

She laughs, shuddering a little bit and resting her fingers at his wrist. Kate strokes back and forth over his arm hair, whirling patterns, and he almost forgets what he's doing. A little noise of discontent from her and he resumes his work, cleaning the rest of the sugar off her face. He reaches for a clean dishcloth to dry her skin, careful not to rub too hard, and when he's done he presses a kiss to her cheekbone.

"Good as new."

"Thanks," she smiles, stretching on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. She's barefoot, apron tied around her middle and he's quite embarrassed by how much that does it for him. He fell in love with Kate at the precinct, yes, and he'd never want her to let go of her independence and become his kept woman or something equally awful. Only, he waited such a long time to be with her that any of the other facets of herself that she reveals are entrancing, an endless source of fascination.

"What do we do next?" he asks, dropping his arms from around her waist. There's no recipe to follow, not a physical one anyway, and he rather likes having Kate boss him around, making sure everything is just so.

After they finished making the pie Kate decided she was still in the mood to bake, had not yet satisfied her craving. So while it rests in the refrigerator - it apparently has to stay there until tomorrow - they're making cupcakes for dessert tonight.

Kate bends over the mixing bowl and swipes the back of her hand across her forehead, wispy curls spilling all over the place and getting in to her eyes. "Now we just have to mix it. Did you find any food colouring?"

"No."

"That's okay," she grins, reaching for a spoon and beginning to stir the icing sugar and water together. "Mom and I used to make cookies when we were here at Christmas and decorate them, all sorts of different things. I made a reindeer one year that I think my dad still has a picture of."

Rick smiles, resting his hip against the counter to watch Kate work. "Did you do the gingerbread house too?"

"Of course," she says, lifting the spoon and watching the icing slide off the back of it. A little too easily, and she reaches for the sugar and pours a little more into the bowl, mixes it through. "My mom was always really protective over it. She would only let me help under strict supervision. I had to be so careful."

"I bet you were anyway, weren't you. Little Katie Beckett, all serious about her cookie house."

She laughs at him, rolling her eyes even as two spots of colour appear high up at her cheekbones. "Actually, when I was very young I used to eat the gumdrops before Mom got a chance to stick them on. It wasn't until I was eight or nine that I really took it seriously."

"Alexis used to pretend to help me, but really she was just hovering so that she wouldn't miss her chance to lick the spoon after I was done," he says, shaking his head at the memory. His little girl in her kitschy pajamas, two pigtails dangling almost to her waist, hovering so close to him that she kept bumping into his leg.

"That's the best part."

Kate checks the icing's consistency again and nods, hums a satisfied little noise as she reaches for the tray of cupcakes and touches her fingertip to the top of each one to make sure they're cool. After the cakes came out of the oven he persuaded Kate to come and sit with him on the couch, wasted no time before he lay her down under him and poured his gratitude for their morning into his kiss. She had stretched out, her body still surprising him in its length when her toes touched his, and they had forgotten all about their cakes for almost forty minutes.

"When did your mom first teach you how to make the pie?" he asks, careful to keep his voice casual, the question an easy one. He's always so hesitant to ask about her mother, unwilling to accidentally drag up anything that might hurt her, but she seems eager to remember Johanna today. This morning he could almost imagine her mother sitting in the easy chair, watching them and smiling softly at the lovebirds.

"I was sixteen. She was sixteen when her mother taught her so it just seemed right. Old enough to appreciate the tradition, you know?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, taking the spoon she hands him. Kate passes him one of the racks of cupcakes and takes the other for herself, begins spreading the icing in a thick layer over the curved top. He's never been much of a baker - his culinary talents lie more in the domain of the savoury - but he copies her movements as precisely as he can and his first cupcake turns out pretty great.

Kate is quiet for a while, focused on decorating the cakes, but after she finishes the fifth or sixth she shoots him a glance from the corner of her eye. "My grandmother used to spend her summers in Florida with family friends when she was a little girl. That was where she learned to make pie, and where she met my grandfather. I don't really remember her very well, I was only six when she died, but I do remember that she always used to smell of this lemon soap that she had."

"Smell always seems to be the sense that's easiest to remember," he smiles, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. Sometimes Kate will wear a splash of the perfume she used to have in their first year together and he finds himself cringing away automatically, his ear throbbing with the phantom touch.

She turns her face in to him, steals a fast kiss from his mouth before she refocuses on the last few cakes. He's lagging behind her, still has half of his tray to work through, and he almost expects her to want to take over from him. Instead, she hoists herself up to sit on the countertop and drums her heels against the cabinet below, watching him work. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his forehead puckering and she chuckles at him, smoothes her thumb over the lines of his face.

"You're doing great. Those look really good."

"Thanks," he grins, daring to take his eyes off his hands for a moment and look at her. The window behind her lets the afternoon sun pour in and spill around her body, get tangled in the twisting strands of her hair. She's stunning, he knew that the moment he met her, but seeing her like this with no makeup and her shirt falling down off her shoulder makes him weak with gratitude.

Often when he compliments her, he gets the feeling that she doesn't really believe him, so he's taken to doing his best to show her instead. Rick finishes up the last of the cakes and nudges his way into the space between her legs, framing her hips with his hands braced against the counter top. She hums, lazy in her contentment, and sits up a little straighter until her chest presses close to his.

His mouth meets hers, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip and she sighs, opens up to him. Her legs curl around his thighs, heels digging in to the muscles that flex there and he growls, slides his tongue past the seam of her lips. Fingers carding through his hair, Kate's nails scratch the tender skin of his scalp and he jerks, slides a hand up the silk of her thigh and underneath her skirt.

"No," she gasps and he freezes, starts to withdraw his hand. Her fingers circle his wrist, squeezing hard and she pants against his cheek, her hips rocking forward until they just ghost over his. "Wait. Not no. Just not here."

"Not on the counter?" he gruffs at her, an eyebrow arching. She's never had an issue with that before, usually more than happy to have him wherever they happen to be.

Kate laughs, shaking her head, and cuts her eyes to the rack of cupcakes next to them. And then he gets it, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat as he leans in to let his forehead rest against hers. Chin tilting up to get her mouth to his, Kate pats his ass and scoots forward on the counter until their hips crash and nestle together.

"Not next to the cakes. I wanna clean up. Come shower with me?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," he grunts, swallowing her laughter with the press of his mouth before he scoops her up and carries her to the bathroom with him.

* * *

After their shower Kate feels loose and lazy, can't quite face getting properly dressed again. She tugs on fresh underwear and pulls Castle's discarded shirt over her head, tipping upside down to scrub a towel through her hair. She squeezes as much water out as she can and twists it into a rope, lets it hang over one shoulder.

A hand smoothed along her calf and Kate sighs, wincing a little at the prickle of short baby hairs. She really needs to stop inviting him into the shower with her so she can shave without getting distracted. Not that he seems to mind; he's never asked her to change a single thing about herself.

Kate pads through into the kitchen to find him, wearing only shorts and singing quietly to himself as he collects ingredients from the cabinets. She tries to be quiet, tiptoeing across the floor, but right as she's about to reach out and goose him he grins, spinning around to face her.

"Hey," he smirks, raking his eyes oh so slowly along the length of her legs.

She frowns at him, folding her arms across her chest and pouting just a little. "How do you do that? How did you know I was here?"

"It's my sixth sense. I always know when you're near."

"Castle," she huffs, rolling her eyes at him.

He laughs, kissing the silly show of irritation right off her face and banding an arm around her, drawing her in against him. She moves slowly, body heavy and viscous as he tugs her close, and she lets herself sink into him and stay there. "I saw your reflection in the window."

"I knew it," she says into the skin of his throat, tongue darting out to taste the tartness of soap there. "That's cheating."

"Not cheating. Detecting," he smirks at her, leaning in to kiss her again. He sips lazily at her mouth and she lets him, feeling sleepy and somnolent with how much she loves him. And yes, she still hasn't been brave enough to tell him that, but she knows that he knows.

She lets him kiss her, lets his tongue slide inside her mouth and his fingers come to drift up and down the length of her spine. When she tugs away from his kiss she keeps her hand at his neck, the murmur of his pulse jumping at her palm.

"What were you doing?"

"I was going to make a marinade for the ribs, let them sit before we cook them."

Kate lets a smile peel her apart, full up and silly with adoration for him and he startles a little, studying her as if he's confused by her joy. Arching up onto the tips of her toes, Kate dusts her mouth to his cheek, shifts over to his ear. "This is why I'm dating you. For the food."

"And I'm dating you because you're tall," he grins, chasing her kiss. "You wanna help, or just relax and I'll do it?"

"I'll help," she says, stepping away from him to peruse the items laid out on the countertop. Honestly, if she's going to relax she wants to do it with him. Maybe take a walk or curl up with her feet in his lap and read. Of course she knows how to exist without him, how to be on her own, but the remarkable thing is that so far she hasn't wanted to. They worked hard enough to get here that there's no shame in wanting to keep him close.

He nods, moving around her to tug open the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "Do you know if we've got Worcester sauce?"

"We do," Kate stretches up onto tiptoe next to him, rummaging through the bottles until she comes up with the sauce. She passes it over to him, dropping back to flat feet and he presses a kiss to the crown of her head.

"That's everything then."

Castle moves back to the mixing bowl and adds all of the ingredients, measuring everything with precision. She would have expected him not to bother, to just throw together a splash here and a pinch there, and it's interesting to watch how careful he is. He stirs the mixture together and Kate watches the work of his arm, the flex of muscle, and has to fist her hands so she doesn't reach out. "They need to bake in the oven for thirty five minutes, and then we can keep them in the fridge until we're ready to barbecue them."

"Okay," she moves to collect the ribs from the refrigerator and hand them to him, watching with undisguised interest as he dips each one into the marinade to coat it in sauce and then lays them all out in a roasting tin. He covers the tray with foil and slides it into the oven, washing his hands before he comes back to stand beside her.

"What do you wanna do while they're cooking?"

Kate hums, tilting her head to the side to look at him. While she was getting dressed after their shower, she remembered something she wanted to show him and she's excited to see how he'll react. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" he asks, his whole face already lighting up with excitement. He's so easily pleased, just wants for her to share things with him, and she's at a point now where she actually wants to do so. Maybe it's a little silly, but she's proud of herself. Proud of both of them.

"My room."

He growls, chasing behind her with his hands all over, rucking up the hem of his shirt to reveal more and more of her thighs. His fingers are thick, but never clumsy, and Kate has to lean against the wall in the hallway and snag his hand, tug it away from her so she can focus. "Not for that."

"Oh," he says, surprise knocking the sound out of him, and he takes a small step away from her. Even though she _just_ had him in the shower, her body mourns the loss of his and Kate swallows, reaches for his hand to slide her fingers into his.

"I wanna show you my box of secrets."

A groan rumbles out of him and he turns to rest his forehead against the cool plane of the wall, closing his eyes against her. "You're sure not for that?"

"I'm sure. Sorry," she laughs, settling her palm between the wings of his shoulder blades. His skin is warm, radiating heat, and Kate slides her arms around his waist and leans in until her cheek rests against the hard edge of his scapula. It's only been a few weeks, and she's still getting used to the constant warmth of him, the way he always kicks the sheets down to the end of the bed at night.

Kate straightens after a moment, a kiss pressed to his bare skin before she moves away, and she nudges him with her elbow until he stands to follow her. In the bedroom, Kate gets to her knees next to the twin bed and reaches underneath, shuddering at the layer of dust that coats her fingers.

"Be careful of snakes," he blurts out, hovering over by the door and she snorts, lifting her head to look at him over the top of the mattress.

"There're no snakes under my bed, Castle."

He huffs, muttering something under his breath about slimy, wicked creatures and Kate lets him be, stretching her arm a little further until her fingers bump up against the cardboard of a shoebox. Triumphant, she pulls it out from under the bed and wipes the dust off the top, standing up and shifting to sit sideways on the bed instead. Kate sets the box down and pats the space next to it, waits for him to come and join her.

Castle studies the decoration her eight year old self spent an entire afternoon doing on the lid of the box, chuckling quietly and lifting his eyes to meet hers. "Are you sure it's okay that we open this? I'm not sure I want to risk the consequences."

"Well, it's still mine and I'm giving you express permission."

"It's an honour," he smiles, leaning over the box between them to kiss her. A hand comes up to cradle her cheek and she leans in to his touch, eyelids fluttering. He lingers for a moment and then pulls away, rests both hands on top of the shoebox. "Can I open it?"

Kate draws her legs up underneath herself and crosses them, rests her hands on top of her knees. It feels close to a meditation pose and she laughs quietly, shifting until she doesn't feel quite so awkwardly staged. "Go ahead."

He tugs off the lid and sets it carefully to one side, rummaging slowly through the contents of the box. It's full of treasures that Kate collected over her years growing up at the cabin, and even though the assortment of things looks random each one means something special to her.

"Is this an acorn?" her partner says, lifting it carefully free from the box and cradling it in his palm. The thumb of his opposite hand comes to stroke over the hard surface of the nut, still brilliantly shiny after so many years, and he glances at her for just a moment before returning to stare at it.

"Yeah. A squirrel gave it to me."

He gasps, eyes flying back up to her face and for a moment she can imagine him as a little boy, picture so clearly the way his whole self would light up with wondrous awe. Still does, if she's being honest. "A _squirrel_ did?"

"Uh-huh," she smiles, reaching out to take the acorn from him. "I'd had a fight with my parents. I don't even remember what it was about now. I stormed off and I sat in the woods for hours, thinking about how awful they were. And I guess I was so still and so quiet that all of the animals just got used to me being there."

"Of course," Castle shakes his head, smiling softly at her, and he pulls one knee up onto the mattress, shifting to face her a little more. "Remind me to add animal whisperer to your list of magical qualities."

Kate rolls her eyes, but she doesn't bother trying to hide her pleased little grin from him. It's not exactly news, that he loves her, but sometimes she's taken by surprise when he looks at her like that. As if he's never seen anything so amazing in his life. "Anyway, he uh. . .he walked up to me like I was another squirrel and just handed it over. It was pretty awesome."

"That sounds amazing," he breathes, accepting the acorn when she hands it back over to him and settling it back in the box. They work through the rest of the box together, each item handled like it's something to be treasured. To her, of course, each one is, but watching the respect that Castle has for her things makes her heart twist, pushes her to move and sit closer to him.

He disappears for a moment when the timer on his phone goes off, taking the ribs out of the oven and leaving them on the countertop to cool before they can go into the refrigerator. While he's gone, Kate leafs through everything they've looked at, feeling strangely melancholy about it. She was so young then, had no idea of the hurt that waited to chase her with it's gaping maw snapping for the rest of her life.

When he comes back he must be able to tell but he doesn't say anything, doesn't acknowledge the dragging corners of her mouth more than to kiss each one in turn, finish the trifecta with the touch of his mouth to the end of her nose. His arm curls around her shoulders and he squeezes, studying her for a moment before he lets go and turns back to the box.

The last item, buried right at the bottom, is her journal and she huffs a breath of shaky laughter, rests her chin at his shoulder. Her body leans against his arm, bicep nestled between her breasts and her fingers come up to curl around him, almost surprised that he's still shirtless.

"Don't laugh at me," she murmurs, turning her head to brush a kiss to the spot just next to his ear where the stubble doesn't quite grow in.

He twists as if to look at her, wincing when his neck torques at an awkward angle, and his mouth just skims the slope of her nose. "Why would I laugh at you?"

"You're a writer. And I was probably only eleven or twelve when I wrote most of it."

"You're gonna let me read it?" he says, an eyebrow arcing up towards his hairline. He lifts the journal from the box and rests it, still closed, in his lap. One hand rests on top of the soft lilac velvet of the cover. "I figured that might be too far."

Kate nudges her nose into his cheek and shifts around the oak of his arm until she can see his face. Both hands come up to cup his cheeks and she leans in, kisses him gently. She keeps it light, soft presses of her lips, until she can breathe again around the lump of gratitude in her throat.

When she pulls away, she smoothes over the smudged line of his lip with her thumb, leaves it resting at the corner of his mouth. "Castle, I want to share with you. Everything. Of course you can read it."

He ducks his head, eyes fluttering closed for a moment, and when he meets her gaze again she's astonished by the depth of his heart, the gratitude she sees there. He smiles, and Kate shifts back around to his side. She can barely remember what she wrote in the little book, but she imagines it's probably the awful, bleeding-heart lament of her preteen self.

"Oh," he breathes when he goes to open the book, flipping it sideways. "It's locked."

She had forgotten about that, how closely guarded she kept the journal. Kate laughs and climbs off the bed for a second. Pulling out the second drawer down in the dresser, she feels for the key taped to the back and pulls it free, brings it back to hand over to Castle.

"I was quite secretive."

"I see that," he chuckles, sliding the key into the lock and turning it easily. Castle opens the cover and laughs at the title page, her deliberate cursive not exactly the most beautiful penmanship. She flushes, buries her face against the back of his shoulder for a moment, but he traces her writing with his fingertip. "The diary of Katherine H. Beckett, huh?"

She laughs, shaking her head at her own foolish self, and she wonders just how mortified she would have been at twelve to know that she'd one day love somebody enough to let them see this. "I was also quite serious."

"It's adorable, really," her partner grins, a kiss to her temple that she barely has time to register before he's already pulling away again, totally absorbed in her diary. The entries are not that exciting really, mostly just details of her days at the cabin, but then they hit the Christmas after she turned thirteen and she winces.

Kate buries her face in both hands and groans, feels the flame of embarrassment ignite in her cheeks and roar down to her neck. "Oh jeez, okay. Promise not to laugh. This was my first boyfriend."

"Laugh?" he scoffs, puffing up his chest and squaring his jaw at her. "I'll kill him if he hurt you."

"Of course he hurt me. We were thirteen," she sighs, the heartache of her first breakup rushing back all over again. And then she thinks about what happened just a few short months ago, how close she came to losing the person she loves most in the world and she grabs for his free hand, squeezing hard.

Castle's thumb strokes at her wrist and he searches her face, all of his mock consternation disappeared in the face of any possible hurt she might be feeling. "Do you want me to skip over this part?"

"No," Kate says firmly, nudging her fingers to lace between his and bringing their joined hands up, dusting her mouth over his knuckles in gratitude for the offer. "It's a part of the story. And I'd like for you to read it, I think. To know what my first relationship was like."

She really thinks that this, with him, could be her last. It's so different to anything she's ever had before, so much happiness filling her up that it overflows as if from a too small cup, and she wants him to know. Everything.

"Okay. I just hope this kid knew how lucky he was."

Kate huffs a breath of laughter and closes her eyes, listens to the steady rhythm of his breathing as he reads. The air in his lungs hitches a couple of times and she knows he's gotten to the bad parts, the parts where she thought she'd never hurt this much again.

After he's done reading he sets the journal aside and wraps both his arms around her, manoeuvring their bodies so they can lay down on top of the sheets without crushing her memory box. He rocks her a little, his face pressed against the skin of her neck, and his fingers dig into the flesh of her arms. "Oh Kate. I am so sorry."

"It's okay," she says laughingly, freeing an arm where it's trapped between their bodies to smooth her fingers through his hair over and over. Seems as if he's the one who's hurting over this. "It was nearly twenty years ago. I was just a kid."

"That doesn't invalidate how you felt," he says fiercely, clutching at her tighter still. "I hate that you had to go through that."

She gives him a handful of seconds to let his grief spill out and then she wriggles free of one of his arms, drapes herself lazily over his chest instead. "I'm not. That relationship - if you can even call it that - taught me a lot about who I was. And it's actually sort of funny now, how seriously I took the whole thing. I had no idea what a real, wonderful relationship could be like."

"Do you know, every day it surprises me how wise you are?" he murmurs to her, his fingertips tracing a lazy path up and down her bicep. He's so delicious underneath her that she might just stay here for the rest of the evening, stretched cat-like on top of the sun-warmed rock of his body.

"It's not really wisdom, Castle. Just me not being thirteen anymore."

He chuckles at that, her body trembling with his amusement, and she wraps an arm at his stomach to hold on through the joy. "Even at thirteen, you were pretty smart. It was. . .a little melodramatic. But not bad writing. Not at all."

"Well thanks," she smirks, pressing an open mouthed kiss right over his heart. "You gonna give it to Black Pawn to publish?"

"Absolutely not," he growls, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss that ends with her pressed under him, one leg hooked high around his waist. He frames her head in his hands and tugs back, stares down at her with lust-bruised eyes. "What if that kid read it and remembered what he gave up and tried to get you back? How could I compete against your first love."

He seems so serious that for a moment she freezes, stunned by him, and then he dissolves into breathless laughter and his arms give out, leave him trying not to let the sprawl of his body crush her. Kate wraps her arms around him and echoes his amusement, wriggling her hips to get comfortable. "Even if he did come back, Castle? I wouldn't leave you. Not for anything."

"You'd better not," he gruffs out, suddenly seeming to realise the proximity of her hips, but instead of rocking against her he gets to his knees, offers her a hand to pull her up to sitting as well. "I can't eat all those ribs by myself."

"Oh, yes," she gasps, her stomach gurgling its enthusiastic response. "I forgot about those. Can we cook them now?"

He beams, almost tumbling right over in his haste to climb off the bed. Their hands are still clasped, so she has no choice but to follow him, and the two of them run down the hall towards the kitchen. Her shoulder smacks into the doorframe and she careens into him, almost sends them both crashing to the floor, but he catches her. Spins her around and sets her back on her feet again, mouth descending in a kiss that's more the clash of teeth, two smiles jostling together.

"By the way," he says laughingly, their noses bumping as he walks her backward towards the kitchen counter. "I'm not leaving you either.


	7. Chapter 7

**Living is Easy**

* * *

Last night, after they glutted themselves on the barbecue, Kate had groaned and rubbed her belly, sprawled in the adirondack chair with her feet dangling over the side. He had pottered around, clearing away their dinner things and changing into pyjamas before he came back outside to find her still there, dozing. They collapsed lazy into bed together, and the skim of his mouth along the slope of her neck seemed to ignite a new and vibrant shock of energy in her. They stayed awake for hours, laughing and kissing and talking in between rounds, and it felt almost like that first night again. Better, even, because he wasn't afraid that she would leave once daylight touched her, run from him before she turned to dust.

They got to witness it as the sun sunk low into the belly of the earth and the sky bruised, vast swathes of deep purple shadow rolling off the mountains and tumbling down to them. He was astonished by how many of the constellations she seemed to know, all of the stories she told him, and he rolled her on top of him so he could see both her and the stars. It was amazing, made him feel at once insignificant and almighty, but they didn't sleep until late and his body aches, his bones weary.

When the noise comes he jerks awake, a gasp stuck in his throat, and grabs for Kate. Too tight, and she elbows him in the solar plexus to get free, reaching for her phone on the floor. His heart hammers against his ribcage, the hot taste of panic inside his mouth making him swallow reflexly, and he keeps one hand on her because he _cannot_ let go of her right now.

He does have a tendency to default straight to dreadful fear when something startles him awake, ever since he was the father of a newborn and something as simple as too much silence over the baby monitor would have him charging up the stairs to his daughter's room to make sure she was still breathing. It's not so bad now, but apparently he still has some residual anxiety after what happened at the start of this summer.

Kate made a deal with the dragon, but he's not entirely convinced that it's enough to keep her safe. So every time there's a loud noise or a flash of light he has to grit his teeth and fight the urge to push her to the ground, shield her the way he failed to do a year ago.

One eye peels slowly open and he groans, rolling over in bed as his body creaks and then crashes hard against the mattress. He watches as Kate swipes her fingertip across the screen of the phone to answer the call and clears her throat, sitting up in bed. Her legs fold underneath her, toes peeking out from the edge of the sheet, and she brings the cell to her ear with one hand as the other cards through her hair, sweeps the thick mass of it to one side. "Beckett."

The tinny, far away voice of Detective Ryan comes across the line and Rick sits up too, brings his knees underneath himself and watches Kate's face as their colleague speaks. He can't hear all of it, only snatches of words, but enough to know that it's nothing work related. Just Kevin, making sure that Kate is okay.

"I'm fine, Ryan, thanks," Kate's eyes cut to his and a little smile takes root at the corner of her mouth and spreads outwards, lips peeling back to reveal her teeth. "I'm great, actually."

More robot-speak on the other end of the phone call and Kate's smile drops right off, her face washing into disfigurement. "Castle? No, I. . .haven't heard from him. Not since everything with Bracken."

Ryan says something else and Kate's eyes slide closed, her free hand coming up to cover them. Teeth nibble at the edge of her bottom lip and she shifts in the bed, breath escaping in a near silent sigh. "No, Ryan. I haven't spoken to him. We probably won't see each other until I go back to work. I don't know how he's spending his summer, but it's not with me."

He growls and climbs out of bed but can't go further than that, tangled in the web of her conversation with Ryan. All of the lies she's telling him. After those first terrible days, when the chaos died down and they got to be together without the grim face of death hovering at their backs, he wanted to tell people. He knows how it looked to her, when he herded her unceremoniously into his closet to hide her from his mother.

They hadn't even kissed in the daylight, then, hadn't had a chance to properly talk about what this thing is between them except that it was going somewhere, wasn't just a one time occurrence. He panicked, but then he stopped panicking, and he wants everybody to know it. He's dating _Kate Beckett_ , and it's the most amazing thing that's happened to him since his little girl came silently into the world. Why on earth would he ever want to lie about it?

"Okay, Ryan. Thank you for calling. Maybe we can get drinks when I'm back in the city? Yeah. Alright, bye," Kate says, and then she presses the button to end the call and drops her phone to the sheets. Her eyes flick up to his and she bites her lips, hands folding and unfolding over and over in her lap. "Sorry."

"I hate this," he grits out, sinking back to sit on the mattress. His feet stay on the floor, the warmth of the wooden boards travelling up his calves, but like this he has his back to her.

When her fingers come to the wings of his shoulder blades, light and soft, he shivers and his spine goes straight, a string through the top of his head that yanks upward. Her lips brush behind his ear, her chest humming close against his back, and then he feels her forehead come to the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell them."

"Not your fault," he shrugs, and it dislodges her from touching him.

"It kind of is. It's because of my job."

He turns to look at her then, drawing a knee up underneath himself and curling his hand around it. Her hair is always a little crazy in the morning, a frantic spill of curls and frizz, and he still finds it remarkable just how quickly she manages to tame it. "You love your job. I'd never ask you to compromise that. I just don't see- I hardly think the boys would go running to tell Gates. And I think that you know that, too."

"What are you saying?" she says sharply, the planes of her face shifting to harden against him as he watches. Her arms come up, almost folded, but they seem more as if they're curled against her chest in defence.

"I think that you don't want to admit you finally gave in to whatever this is between us. I think you're embarrassed for our friends and families to know that you do actually have feelings for me."

When he asked her, that calamitous first morning, if she was embarrassed about being seen with him, he had been only halfway teasing. Kate had always been fiercely, absolutely adamant that she didn't feel anything for him, that the sex between their fictional counterparts was just that. Fiction. So yes, he has wondered if that's why she's so eager to keep it a secret. Because she doesn't want everyone to know that she does like him after all.

Kate chokes out a noise of absolute incomprehension, staring at him and not even bothering to blink back the tears that threaten or hide the trembling of her chin. "What the hell are you talking about? Whatever this _is_? I thought we agreed. We're doing this for real. A relationship."

"I know we did. And I'm- this is the happiest I've been in a really long time. It's just that I'm not ashamed to be with you, but sometimes I feel as if maybe the same isn't true for you."

" _Castle_ ," she croaks, her voice wavering dangerously close to a sob. He hates himself for doing this to her, for upsetting her once again, but every time he has to listen to her lying to someone they care about shame rolls over him, thick and blinding. Kate has both hands fisted in the comforter now, her eyes trained on her knuckles, and she makes a wet sound of anguish before she speaks. "I hold your hand in the street. I told Joe from the diner about you. I even- I've kissed you in broad daylight in Manhattan, and you think I'm _ashamed of you_?"

"I just don't see why. . .why you won't even tell your father. I thought this is serious between us."

"I'm keeping it a secret because I am terrified," she yells, lifting her chin to look at him. Her eyes are shot through with tiny red fissures, but her anger blazes loud enough to engulf any trace of sadness as she continues. "If people find out about us, you might not be able to shadow me at the precinct anymore. And I can't bear that. I can't lose you. I told you that already."

He shakes his head roughly, letting his eyes slam closed. This is where they're going to crash, their jagged edges not quite fitting together. Kate is a private person, he's always known that, and he thought he was okay with it. But he loves big, throws himself right in, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to hide it from his family, his friends. Not when all he wants to do is tell anyone who will listen how happy he is, how much he loves her. "I don't think that's a real risk. We can be discreet."

"I don't care if it's infinitesimal," she says, gentler now, and she grabs for his hand. Her grip is tight, squeezing hard enough that his knuckles seem to pop into greyscale, bleaching suddenly. "I'm not taking the chance that I might lose you as my partner. Please let's not fight about this."

He flips his hand under hers so that their palms kiss, two of her fingers curling around one of his, and he brushes his mouth to the sharp edge of her cheekbone. "I don't want to fight. I'm just so proud to get to love you. I want to tell everyone."

"I know. I know you do," she breathes, falling for a moment until she crashes against his shoulder and curls up, her free hand sliding across his belly to settle at his ribs. "But this is so precious to me, Rick. I don't want to risk what we have. I don't trust anyone else with it."

"I think I understand."

She nods, the crown of her head butting into his chin, and it jars a laugh out of him that she echoes quietly against the skin of his throat. "I hope so. It's not because I'm ashamed to be with you. If I thought it was safe, I'd put an announcement in the paper if you wanted me to."

That jostles another laugh out of him, from low down in his abdomen this time. He just can't imagine Kate ever doing that, laying herself bare under the microscope of the media. "You don't have to do that. Just as long as we can tell people some day? I don't want to have to hide forever."

"Not forever," she says immediately, her nose nuzzling at the thread of his pulse now. "Just until we can be sure I won't get fired and you won't have to leave the precinct."

"I think we would survive it. Even if I did have to leave. It wouldn't mean that I would leave _you_ , Kate," he says gently, sliding a hand up the column of her spine to cradle the back of her neck. His thumb digs into the knot of tension at the base of her skull and she groans, shuddering hard and relaxing a little further into him.

Her eyes peel open, head tilting to look at him, and she brings a fingertip up to trace the seam of his mouth in fascination. "I hope so. But let's not find out."

* * *

Something about their conversation - argument - earlier is still niggling at him, she can tell. He's pretty good at hiding it, smiling at her like normal over breakfast, making light and easy conversation about the boys back at the precinct and whether they've kissed and made up yet.

Only, he doesn't hum to himself as he washes the dishes. He doesn't invite her into the shower with him, and although his mouth brushes over her cheekbone before he disappears into the bathroom, when he turns away she sees in the mirror as a great cloud of irritation rolls like thunder over his face.

While he's showering, Kate pulls on running shorts and a sports bra, hunts through the pile of shoes next to the door for her sneakers. It's already hot enough outside that sweat collects at the nape of her neck, and she's eager to run until she's a little bit disgusting, let the guilt slough off her. She had had no idea that he thought she's embarrassed to be with him; just the idea of it seems so ridiculous she could almost laugh.

Sometimes he'll roll over in bed and look at her, maybe trace the curve of her mouth with his thumb, and it seems as if she's the only thing that matters in his world. He loves so hard, so beautifully, and she is so honoured to be the one who gets to share that with him and love him back. Castle is so amazing that she still can't believe he actually wants her, feels the pride swell in her chest whenever he takes her hand and introduces her to somebody.

Kate does some stretches in the kitchen, warming up her muscles as she waits for him to reappear. She hasn't exactly been inactive these past weeks - oh no, Castle has pushed her to be more inventive than she's ever dared before - but it's been a while since she's just gotten outside and felt the burn in her calves as they swallow the miles.

When her partner reappears she's upside down, one leg stretched out in front of her body and her head pressed almost to her knee. He grunts, but the sound never quite manages to shed the cocoon of annoyance and blossom into real amusement. "You're going out?"

"Yeah," she straightens, arcing up onto the tips of her toes with her arms above her head and holding the stretch for a count of ten before she relaxes. "That alright?"

"Sure. I'll write, then," he lifts a shoulder at her, hand twitching at his side as if he's going to raise it in dismissal. Kate hovers for a moment, gnawing on her bottom lip, but his body looks cold and immobile as stone, and she doesn't think she can bear to touch her mouth to the marble edge of his cheek, his jaw.

Turning on her heel, Kate leaves the cabin, forcing herself to twist around at the last second and call out a goodbye before she closes the front door. She starts out at a slow jog, picking her way along the trails that wind through the woods. It's a lot more difficult to run here - she has to be careful that none of the detritus crowding the forest floor makes her stumble or fall down - and so she can't usually build up as much speed as in the city. She loves the challenge of it though, the heightened focus it requires of her, and that's exactly what she needs this morning.

Kate retreats inside of her own head, and for a while she forgets that anybody else exists. The back of her throat thickens with the taste of adrenaline, her heart pounding furiously, and sweat pools low down at the base of her spine, spreading across her chest as well. Her lungs cry out, but she's too absorbed in the sounds of the woods to notice. Cicadas call out loudly, always sounding a little desperate to her, and she feels watchful eyes on her as she makes her near-silent way along the trails. It's good, makes the desperate loneliness dislodge a little more with each stride.

After the third or fourth mile, she slackens her pace a little, and it gives her enough room to think again. About Rick. How much she's hurting him, over and over. It makes her ache, feels calamitous every time they argue. She's always known that no relationship is perfect, that it's better to air your grievances than to keep the hurt inside and let it fester in your gut. But sometimes it feels as if they're always going to find something to fight about, never going to be the right fit for each other.

Every time they disagree, every time he turns away from her and fists a hand at his side, she feels the sandpaper scrape of his edges against hers, how poor a match they really are. And maybe the clashing will wear them both smooth until they nestle together with ease. But she can't help but worry that instead it'll just strip them both raw, leave them wounded.

The toe of her shoe gets caught in a clump of brambles and she stumbles, catches herself with both hands against the trunk of a tree so she doesn't go to her knees. A hiss through her teeth as the rough edge of bark scrapes her palm, slices it open, and she sinks right against the elm until her forehead touches. Eyes closed, she breathes raggedly through the burn of lactic acid in her calves and her stomach, knows she shouldn't stop so abruptly, but she just can't force herself to keep running.

Suddenly, she's sick with how awful this is. Didn't she spend the last year - the last three - running from Castle? From the joy in her heart that blooms whenever she's near him. And this morning, instead of working to resolve the issues he still has, she bolted into the underbrush. No better than a wounded animal. Kate waits for her stomach to stop rolling and then she straightens again, resumes the steady pace of her body as she runs. But this time, back to him.

When she makes it to the cabin she tumbles through the front door, bounces on her toes to let the tension work slowly out of her muscles. She grabs a water bottle from the refrigerator and downs half of it in one gulp, watches in the window's reflection as the crackle of the plastic makes him twitch. Kate disappears into the bathroom for a moment to grab a towel, swipes at the back of her neck and leaves it draped there.

Her partner is on the couch, laptop closed and resting on the coffee table in front of him, and even when she sinks to sit at his side his face doesn't shift. No acknowledgement of her presence at all until his mouth opens. "Why is it always about you?"

"Why is what about me?" she asks, a little alarmed by the gruff edge to his voice. He sounds exhausted, and Kate clasps her hands and captures them between her knees, battling back her desperate need to grab for him. He isn't running, isn't leaving her. There's no real reason for the panic that claws her throat.

"Everything."

He turns to look at her, finally, and Kate shrinks back against the arm of the couch, her skin erupting with gooseflesh. She's seen him angry before, and she can handle that, but it's the defeat that horrifies her. Reminds her all too much of their argument in her apartment not even two months ago. When he told her he was done, when the fight stopped being worth it for him. "What do you mean?"

"You don't want to tell people, so we don't tell people. You don't want to talk about a kiss, so we don't talk. You don't want us to be together, so we're not together for a whole year," he sighs, covering his face with one hand for a moment. They seem to keep having the same arguments over and over, the same issues still unresolved between them, and Kate bows her head until the bones of her skull and her knees crunch together. "I like to think I'm a pretty easygoing guy, Beckett, but I'm not going to let you stomp all over me."

Straightening, Kate covers his hand in hers, stroking the pad of her thumb over the fine, soft hairs at his knuckles. "I'm gonna go shower, because I feel really gross. And then we're going to talk. Properly. If that's okay with you?"

"That's fine," he nods sharply, pulling his hand back from under hers, and Kate forces herself to get up and stride towards the bathroom, when all she really wants to do is climb into his lap and roll her hips. Remind him of the one - maybe the only - area they really excel at.

She doesn't want this thing between them to just be about sex; she never has wanted that. So even though the temptation is thoroughly distracting and need is a constant, churning liquid force in her gut, she won't give in to it. He deserves the words, however many she can find to give him, and she is ready to fight for their future.

Kate showers as fast as she can manage, swallowing an unhealthy amount of water as she races to wash her hair, scrub shower gel over the planes of her body. After she dries off, she pulls on jean shorts and a tank top, ties her hair up on top of her head so it doesn't leave a damp patch on her shirt.

When she heads back into the living area, Castle doesn't seem to have so much as shifted his position. She sinks down sideways onto the couch, legs folded beneath her, and she gives him however much time he needs to be able to turn and face her.

"You're telling me all these stories about your childhood, about yourself," he starts, turning just slightly so that he's halfway between facing forwards and facing her. "And that's great. I love hearing them. But I can't help feeling like. . .like you're not really interested in mine."

"You never tell me them," she fires back immediately, her hackles raising. "You're always _asking_ for my stories, Castle. Always wanting to know."

He offers her a small smile, huffing a sigh and shaking his head as his eyes flutter closed for a moment. "That's exactly it, Beckett. You never ask for mine. Everything feels so one-sided."

"Right, everything's about me," she says roughly, folding her arms in defence. What is he even saying here? That she's self-centred? It has certainly been true in the past, she'll admit that much, but she's working so damn hard to let go of that. Hearing that he doesn't think she's succeeding _stings_ , and she sucks in a breath through her teeth.

"Well isn't it? You decide everything; all of our conversations are about you and your history. Sometimes I feel like you're the only one who has any control and I just have to take my orders, take whatever you deign to give me, and wait for more."

Hurt cleaves her in two, a sharp line dissecting her abdomen and it makes her cruel, hardens her against him. "If you feel so terribly about this - if you find being around me so awful - then why are you even still here?"

"Because I'm in love with you, damn it!" he yells, his forearms trembling with the shock of adrenaline that ripples through him. "I don't want to be without you. I just need to know that you want me here because you actually want _me_ , and not just anybody who's willing to listen and obey."

"That's not fair," she growls at him, forcing herself to stay sitting. Whenever she argues, whenever the stakes are raised, she has to pace. Has to let her body move in order to keep up with the ticker tape racketing through her brain. "How could you think that's all that you mean to me?"

Leaning his head against the back of the couch, Castle's eyes close and she sees the slope of a stranger's nose, the mouth of somebody she's never met. He doesn't say anything more and she scrapes a hand over her face, forces herself to stop being a coward.

"Do you know how many people I've ever brought to this cabin?" Kate says quietly, feels herself shrinking backward away from him when he doesn't move to acknowledge her. She does love him, but with opening her heart to him comes the risk of so much awful hurt, and that part terrifies her.

"No."

"One. Only you. I've never trusted anyone enough - never cared about anyone enough - to want to share these things with them. But with you, Castle. . .you give everything a new meaning, make everything more. I want to share with you because you're my best friend, and you matter more to me than anyone else."

After she finishes talking he reaches for her hand, cradling it between both of his. "You're my best friend, too. That's why I want to tell you things, but you never ask."

"You never ask either," she says incredulously, making to draw her hand away before he squeezes tighter, holds on to her. "You used to, but recently everything I've told you I've volunteered. I figured you weren't doing the same because you weren't ready to share."

"I guess that's a little bit true," he admits, wincing as if he's braced for a torrent of rage to wash over him. The self-deprecation on his face makes her laugh, entirely unable to help it, and then the moment cracks open and she knee-walks across the couch to curl up at his side. "I have been afraid to tell you certain things. I didn't want to change your opinion of me."

She scoffs at that, sliding an arm to hook slowly at his waist, her fingers fitting inside his waistband to hold on. "Castle, my opinion of you changes every day. Every day, you do something else that makes me like you just a little bit more."

"Oh," he gasps, his mouth descending to rest against the crown of her head. His breath is warm, catching tendrils of her hair and making them dance around her face, and Kate hooks her leg over his to shift a little closer. "I didn't know."

"And that's on me. I need to do better at letting you know," she says, lifting her chin to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, the hard nudge of his Adam's apple at his throat. Already, she feels so much more confident about this.

Yes, they fight. But they also make up, over and over. And now she has things to work on, clear-cut goals. Making sure he knows just how much she appreciates him, for one thing. Kate slides her knee over his lap and sinks down, lacing her arms over his shoulders and leaning in until her nose brushes his. He shivers violently, wide palms settling in the curves of her waist as his mouth seeks hers.

Their kiss builds slowly and then comes undone again, both of them too distracted to really focus. Too many things still unsaid, so when Castle's mouth lands at her cheek and he hesitates, she sifts her fingers through his hair and waits. "All I want is to matter to you."

"You always have," Kate sighs, a fissure burrowing through her heart at the sad little boy in him, how much he must have been aching over this. "Castle. You're my favourite person in the world. I get so excited that I can hardly focus whenever you walk into the room, just because you're there. So please don't think for a second that you're anything less than everything to me."

His arms come around her, squeezing until all of the air rushes out of her lungs and she buries her face against the smooth skin of his neck, his pectoral muscle flexing underneath her ear. "I'm sorry. It wasn't fair of me to accuse you of that."

"No, it was," she assures him, pulling back to frame his face in her hands and kiss him again. Her body aches from her run earlier and she feels washed up, beached, but in spite of it all she's alight with need for him. "I want you to tell me these things. I want you to let me know where I'm failing, where I can do better, because I want to put the work in, Rick."

"Okay then," he grins, nuzzling at the corner of her mouth. He leaves tiny kisses there, each one making her arch a little closer to him, and Kate allows a lazy sigh to escape her. "I want to tell you things. I want you to know things about me. And. . .I want to be in charge."

She nods, bumping her forehead against his and sliding a hand down to rest over his heart, two fingers curled in the pocket of his shirt. "You can be. If ever I'm being too assertive, if you think I'm railroading you, just tell me to let you make your own decision."

"Somehow I can't imagine that ever working," he laughs at her, tilting his head to the side. "I'm pretty sure if I said 'Kate, shut up, stop being bossy' you'd take my ear clean off."

"I don't think so, Castle," she hums, letting her lashes fan over her cheek and parting her mouth, watching as his eyes focus on the swell of her bottom lip. "I think I'd think it was sexy. I love it when you're-" she rocks her hips down hard against his, scrapes her teeth over the soft flesh of his earlobe. "Dominant."

"God, _Kate_ ," he groans against her mouth, and then before she knows what's happening she's stretched out under the length of his body and he's got both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head as his kisses move lower and lower.


	8. Chapter 8

**Living is Easy**

* * *

After a lunch of hastily constructed sandwiches - she made herself scarce and let him decide what they were going to eat - Kate glances at him across the table and keeps her mouth firmly shut, waiting on him to lead. She's a little queasy with guilt, still, horrified that he's been feeling like this the entire time they've been together.

She is interested in him, every aspect that he wants to share, but that's the biggest part of the problem. All this time, since they met really, she's been assuming that he doesn't want to tell her things. That he's as secretive and as private a person as Kate herself is. So she hadn't probed, hadn't pushed him, because she hoped he would share with her in his own time.

And now he thinks this is all about her, that she doesn't care about him. Their talk just now - and then their _not talking_ straight after - has hopefully helped to put his mind at ease somewhat, but she knows that there's still a lot of work to be done. So she waits, in silence, for him to make the next move.

"I'm pretty tired," he says, face cracking wide open on a yawn that triggers a smaller echo in her. "Do you think we should nap?"

An eyebrow lifting, Kate smiles at him and reaches across the table for his hand, skates her thumb over the rickety lines of his knuckles. "Is that what you want to do?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then let's do it," she says, standing up from the table and picking up her plate. She comes around to collect his as well, stacking it on top and securing both their water glasses in her other hand. Leaning down, she brushes a kiss to his temple, her eyelids fluttering closed as she breathes him in. "I'll clean this up."

Normally, she might suggest something for him to do while she washes their lunch dishes, a way to make himself useful, but instead Kate bites her tongue and heads for the kitchen. He doesn't _need_ to make himself useful, that's sort of the point of vacation, and she has to stop pushing her control freak tendencies onto him.

She fills the plastic bucket in the sink with hot water and a healthy stream of dish soap, swirling it around to encourage the bubbles to foam up. There are no gloves at the cabin so she slips off her ring and sets it in the miniature silver bathtub on the windowsill, where her mother used to keep her wedding rings. Kate busies herself with their dishes, careful not to turn around and look for him, but she can't help her pleased little grin when his footsteps approach her.

He comes silently to her side, a kiss warming her cheekbone before he reaches for a dishtowel and waits for her to wash each item before he dries it and puts it away in the cabinet. They make quiet work of it, only the splashing as her hands move in the water and the birdsong rolling through the open French doors filling the air between them.

She is getting drowsy now, the mechanical work of washing their dishes making her brain all the more aware of how she needs to rest, exhausted after both her run and their argument this morning. After she empties the bucket down the sink drain, Castle captures her hands in the towel and dries them for her, his tenderness even when he must still be angry making her bones turn liquid, her heart mangled and splattered against her ribs.

"Thanks," she murmurs once he's done, letting her body drift into his embrace and lacing her arms around his middle. Her head fits so neatly underneath his chin and she can't hold back her trembling sigh, stop the clutch of her fingers in his shirt. "What would you like to do now?"

"I want to sleep with you next to me."

Her smile comes faster than she was anticipating, wider, and she offers it to him, pulling back to meet his eyes. A grin quirks across his own mouth in echo and he reaches for her hand, laces their fingers together. She's careful not to pull ahead of him, to let him lead her to their bed out on the back porch, and she even hovers next to the double lounger, waiting for him to get comfortable before she curls up close at his side.

"Will you tell me a story? Something about your summers when you were a kid."

"Are you sure you won't fall asleep in the middle of it?" he teases, nudging his elbow gently into her ribs before he wraps his arm around her shoulders and arranges her to sprawl half on top of him, her ear to his sternum.

Kate scoffs at him, sliding a hand up under his shirt to trace the smooth skin at his side. Her touch makes him shiver and she hooks her toes in the sheets to drag them up the bed, "You want some of the covers?"

"Sure," he says easily, accepting the edge of the sheet when she passes it to him and tugging it over both of their bodies, careful to tuck it neatly around her. "Okay. My summers."

A long sigh of contentment escapes her and Kate shifts to get comfortable, her lashes brushing the skin of his neck. His fingers stroll up and down her arm from over the top of the sheets and he clears his throat, wriggling under her until his body settles. He's so tall, so broad, that sometimes she imagines she can hear the groan as he moves, the crash as his bones shift.

"Well, we travelled a lot. My mother was often touring with productions and I would go with her, move around every couple of weeks. It was exciting, to see so many places, but I had to learn to make friends quickly and say goodbye just as fast."

"That must have been awful," she hums, her lips skimming the little dip just next to his clavicle. She knows he had a lonely childhood, moving from boarding school to boarding school and never allowing any of it to touch him, and her heart twists with her yearning to take care of that boy, be a friend to him.

He shrugs, the movement jostling her enough that she gasps and clutches at him, breathless laughter spilling from her chest. "It was sometimes. I fell in love for the first time when I was fourteen, with a girl I met in Idaho, and I only got to spend two weeks with her."

"Oh," Kate says softly, ridiculous jealousy stirring in her belly. He got to read about her first love yesterday, so it's only fair that she learn about his, even if it does make her hackles raise in fearsome defence of him. "You loved her even in such a short time?"

"I loved her before I even knew her name," he laughs, shaking his head in self deprecation. "It was Lisa, I learned eventually. Her father owned the theater my mother's play was being staged in, and because it was summer she hung around there a lot. She wanted to be an actress, so she used to sit very seriously in the front row and take notes."

Kate touches her tongue to the spot at the base of his neck that makes his hips roll, licks a hot stripe up to take his earlobe between her teeth and nibble on it, amused with him. "Really? Your first love was an actress? Do you have a type I should know about?"

"God, no," he shudders dramatically, thick fingers sliding down to hook in the waistband of her shorts. "After Lisa and then Meredith - not to mention living with my _mother_ \- I want as far away from actress as it's possible to get. That's how I know this will work between us."

"Oh really?" she snorts, rolling her eyes, but she can feel the flush of girlish pleasure in her cheeks and the base of her throat. Every time he says something like that - especially when it's only a handful of hours after a fight - she tends to get a little overwhelmed. She has so much faith in this relationship, so much willingness to put in the work and make sure it lasts, and it's wonderful to hear that he feels the same.

He smiles, eyebrows dancing at her, but his eyes are still a little far away. His brain still mired in the story, so Kate shuts up and waits for the rest. "I was always hanging around the theater too, because I had nowhere else to go. It took me six days to work up the courage to speak to her, and by that time I was head over heels."

"You were not," she blurts, unable to help it. She just can't imagine falling for somebody she's never spoken to, especially in such a small time frame.

"I was too!" he fires right back at her. "She had this long dark hair that she always wore in a braid, and her nose used to wrinkle when she was concentrating particularly hard. I introduced myself to her and she told me to be quiet, not to disrespect the actors by making noise during the performance."

Kate laughs, rolling onto her stomach and supporting the weight of her body on her elbows so that she can look at him. He pouts, and Kate leans in to kiss the swell of his bottom lip, pulling back before things can escalate. She wants to know the rest. "Poor baby. I bet that bruised your ego."

"It did. I was. . .not as successful with girls then as I later turned out to be. But the next day she showed up without her notebook and when the performance started she took my hand and we snuck backstage. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was the first that it wasn't awful."

"I'm glad it wasn't a disaster, if you loved her," she teases, shifting forward to prop her chin at his sternum. A clumsy hand comes up between them and he tucks the spill of her hair back away from her face, touches his thumb to the thin skin next to her eye.

His other arm folds behind his head and Kate is distracted for a long moment by the massive swell of his bicep, the strength and power she knows for sure now he possesses, and when she eventually drags her eyes back to meet his she finds him watching her with a smirk. "Far from a disaster. It was the best first kiss I'd ever had, until ours. We spent the next couple of weeks together talking and hanging out backstage, making out all the way through the performances. I was so smitten with her, Kate."

"I can imagine," she murmurs, arching her neck to press her mouth to his chin, draw a line of kisses up the edge of his jaw. "You love hard."

"It wasn't really love, I don't think. Not in the same way that this is. But I was infatuated with her, and it broke my heart when we had to leave." His voice still cracks a little and Kate lays back down on top of his chest, curling her arm at his waist again. Her fingers stroke, circular patterns meant to soothe, and she feels his shuddering breath against the crown of her head. "That's why I've never considered leaving the city as an adult. I wandered too much growing up, and all I want now is to stay where I am. Not have to leave anyone behind again."

Kate nuzzles her nose into him, drawing her legs up under the sheets until her knees bump into his thigh, both feet resting against one of his calves. "You don't have to leave anyone behind anymore, Castle. And even if you did have to go? I'd follow you."

"You would?" he gasps, drawing his arm tight around her as if the universe is already trying to separate them. He kisses her temple, nudges his thigh between her legs. "I would follow you, too. That's pretty much the only reason I'd consider leaving. For you or Mother or Alexis."

"You don't need to worry about it, because I'm not going anywhere," she promises, fisting her free hand in the sheet to tuck it in close around her face. Although the morning was hot, the afternoon seems to be sliding lazy into a chill, and the sky around the edges of the mountains is bruised and angry looking. "Do you think you're ready to sleep?"

"I'm ready," he nods, arching his back and groaning loudly before he relaxes completely and his body goes totally limp underneath her. His unconsciousness is like a trigger for her own, and almost as soon as she becomes aware that he's asleep, Kate tumbles into dreams right along with him.

* * *

They nap for almost an hour and a half, both of them wiped out, but when they wake he feels fresh and alert, his body humming with newfound energy. Rick arches his back and folds both arms behind his head, watches as Kate scrubs at her eyes and sits up, crosses her legs. "Sleep okay?"

"Uh-huh," he smiles, reaching out to arrange the hem of her t-shirt where it's gotten crumpled, not quite sitting the way it should. "I feel great now. Wanna do something?"

"Sure, if you want to."

"Let's go for a walk," he says, climbing out of bed and stretching his arms above his head, feeling the pop of tension in his shoulders. Kate stays where she is, watching him, and he comes back to kiss her with his hands braced against the mattress.

When he pulls back, he watches as her gaze darts towards the sky, brow furrowing a little, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she climbs out of bed and follows him into the house towards the front door, rummages through the pile of shoes for her hiking boots.

He pulls his own shoes on, struggling a little to fit them over the thick walking socks, and then he goes to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator for each of them, reapplies his sunblock and waits by the door for Kate to appear. She's changed into different shorts and tied her hair up on top of her head, little streaks of white across her cheeks and forehead.

"Here. You didn't quite get all of it," he says, handing her the water bottles to free his hands so he can rub her sunscreen in properly. He kisses the end of her nose once he's done, the lotion bitter enough that he feels his own nose wrinkling in distaste. "Perfect."

"It might rain," she warns him as they step outside, but her voice is light with amusement and she makes no move to persuade him that this isn't a good idea. They pick along the trail together, hands not clasped but occasionally bumping together with the rhythm of their strides.

He's never thought of himself as much of an outdoorsy guy. Sure, he likes the idea of it, likes any excuse to buy cool equipment and do research on the Sasquatch, but when it comes down to it he's never really enjoyed getting out into nature. Not until now. "You know, this would never be something I'd enjoy normally."

"Really? You don't like hiking?" she teases, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head just so that she can lift an eyebrow at him, smirking. "I'd never guess."

"Yes, alright, you big meanie," he pouts at her, knocking her sunglasses back down again. "I know I'm not exactly the kind of guy who knows how to start a fire and build a shelter. I've researched it enough for my books, but it's never exactly been a skill I've needed to hone. But being with you makes me want to do those things. Makes me want to go on new adventures."

She blushes, so adorably girlish, and she hovers just behind him for a little while before an extra large stride has her catching up to him. "I'm glad. As long as it's because you want to, and not because you think you have to?"

"I want to," he smiles for her, squeezing her fingers for a second before he lets her go again. They pass the clearing with the tree-chair and Kate takes a moment's pause, moving closer although she doesn't sit down. He stays near the edge, still halfway shielded by the trees, and he gives her the space to pay reverence. And then she comes back to him, bright and smiling, and hooks her arm through his.

As they walk, the air seems to grow thicker, more and more viscous until their bodies almost have to wade through it. The sky above their heads is growing rapidly darker, the blossom of rage-filled hematoma making him distinctly uneasy, and he really should have known better. It was so humid this morning, and he thought the tension that crackled was them and their fighting, but now he thinks perhaps it wasn't.

There's a boom in the distance and he gasps, clutches at his partner. Her mouth opens as if to reassure him, but before she manages to get a single word out the clouds above them burst violently apart and the rain starts, drenching them in seconds.

Kate's white tank top goes immediately translucent, the few strands of hair that have come loose from her bun now stringy and clinging to her cheeks, her neck. She laughs brightly, tipping her head back to lift her face to the heavens, and he can't help but wrap his arms around her waist and paint his mouth to the cool skin of her throat and up, exploring the dichotomous heat of her mouth.

He walks her backwards until she's pressed against the trunk of a tree, his thigh nudging between hers as he kisses her. They ought to go inside, really, but he can't help himself. Rick tugs away from her mouth and she stares up at him, lips swollen with his kiss. He drops his head, nudges the material of her shirt down with his chin to reveal her bullet scar and presses his open mouth to it, tongue just darting out to feel the rougher skin.

"We should go back to the house," he pants against her and she slides her hands out of his hair, lets them hang limply at her sides. He's not quite done yet, has to press one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then he pulls away.

They set off walking, but the rain is getting heavier and heavier as they go and he sees lightning forking closer than he's comfortable with, the count between the thunder and the flash of light getting smaller by the minute. Kate sets off at a jog and he chases after her, the two of them stumbling down the last part of the trail where there's a slight decline towards the cabin.

Beckett loses her footing on the rain-slick earth and he has to catch her, one arm banding securely around her waist before she goes to the ground. He waits for her to catch her breath before he lets her go again and they cover the last of the distance to the cabin, tumbling inside and slamming the front door closed.

"Where did that come from?" she gasps, cheek pressed to the window in the entryway as she watches the rain come down. It seems rhetorical - he doesn't think she's really with him at all - so he leaves her there and heads out to the back porch to collect their things.

He hauls the whole sodden mass of their sheets inside and dumps them on the floor in the living room, glancing up to see her coming towards him. "Do you have somewhere you put the furniture to keep it dry?"

"Oh, yeah," she nods, stepping around him to go out onto the porch. He follows her, swiping a hand through his hair to push it back, stop it from dripping into his face. "We usually put the cushions in the garage, and there's tarp in there to put over the chairs and table."

"Want me to grab it?"

"Sure," she turns over her shoulder to smile at him, arms full up with couch cushions, and he comes back to kiss her swiftly before he heads for the garage. He goes down the porch steps and around instead of tracking through the house, doesn't want to get any more water on the wooden flooring if he can help it. Inside the garage he finds a stack of tarpaulin sheets and grabs them all, jogs back around to where Kate is.

The wind is picking up now, making the rain lash hard against his face until his skin feels raw, and he has to keep his head ducked just to see where he's going. Kate takes a tarp from the top of the pile and flicks her wrists to snap it open, draping it over the double lounger in the same motion. He copies her with the other three sheets, covers the two adirondack chairs and the little side table between them and ties the tarpaulin securely with the ropes stitched to each corner of the square of material.

Once they're done he follows her inside and she closes the French doors and locks them, slumping back against the glass and lifting a hand to swipe some of the water out of her eyes. Gooseflesh ripples along his arms and legs, and as he shudders he notices that Kate's skin has a blue tinge to it, edging towards making her look ghoulish.

"We should warm up," he gasps, shifting his weight from foot to foot and rubbing his arms.

She nods, tugging her tank top up over her head and dropping it to the floor before she flicks open the button of her shorts and steps out of them as well, stands before him in just her mismatched underwear. "Yeah. I'm gonna hang everything up so it can dry out. Do you think you can light the fire?"

"Sure," he nods vigorously and moves to kneel in front of the fireplace, laying the fire the way he learned to during research for his second Storm novel. He crows with delight when the flames catch, spreading from the scrunched up newspaper to the kindling with ease, and he turns back to find Kate has arranged every chair in the house near the fireplace and draped their sheets over the backs of them, spread the cushions out across the floor. "Need some help?"

"No thanks, I'm done now," she smiles, reaching up to tug the elastic out of her hair. He expects her to let it spill across her shoulders, looking forward to sweeping the thick mass to one side and kissing his way up her neck, but instead Kate reties her bun and wiggles her fingers at him, takes his hand once he's on his feet. "How do you suggest we get warm?"

He pretends to think for a moment, but he's been wanting this since the day they got here and she gave him a tour of the place. "I think a bath is in order."

* * *

Kate leaves him in the bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets in search of something to make bubbles with, and she checks every window in the cabin to make sure they're all closed. She's no stranger to storms up here, but they don't often come on as quickly as this one has and she's a little thrown off balance by that.

Once she's satisfied that the house is watertight she heads back for the bathroom and finds her partner in just his underwear, the bathtub piled high with bubbles and all the lights off. A handful of candles on the counter next to the sink give her enough light to see his face, see the happy little grin he gives her, and Kate peels off her bra and underwear. Stepping closer, she hooks her fingers in the waistband of his boxer shorts and drags them slowly down, lets them go and watches as they pool at his feet.

He makes a choked sound and steps out of them, bare skin brushing against hers and she shivers, laces her arms around his neck. "Where'd you find candles?"

"In a box in the cabinet," he says, nuzzling at the smooth patch of skin just behind her ear. "I figured if we turned the lights out we could watch the storm."

She kisses him for that, and then she swats at his bare butt and nudges him to turn around, waits for him to climb into the bathtub before she steps over the side and sinks down into the vee of his legs. His arms come around her waist, the soap making them slip-slide over each other like eels, and Kate rests her head against his chest and watches the ferocious whip of the storm outside the window.

"Trees aren't going to fall on us, right?" he says quietly, and she forces herself upright for a moment to touch her thumb to his bottom lip, before the water drags her back down again.

"No. It's not bad enough for that, don't worry. We're safe."

The tension drains out of him and his body goes limp under her, sinking down beneath the water just a little bit more. His fingers stroke back and forth over her forearm, collecting bubbles every so often to paint them over her skin, but he doesn't try to take it any further than that.

Lightening strikes the lake, far out in the middle of the water, and he gasps and clutches her tighter, bracing as if to shield her. "And the house won't set on fire either, right?"

"No, Rick," she hums, capturing one of his hands and lifting it to her mouth. Kate presses a kiss to his palm and then folds his fingers closed over it, settles his hand back at her stomach with her own still covering it. "The trees are taller, so they'll go first. But with this much rain it probably wouldn't even catch alight. Just relax, enjoy the drama."

"The first storm I can remember, I was about six or seven. Mother was out and I was with a babysitter, but she spent the whole night on the phone with her boyfriend. Our power went out and I hid under my sheets with a flashlight all night long, scared out of my mind."

Her heart splits open with how much she aches for him and Kate turns over, sending a sloshing tide of water up towards the rim of the tub. One knee sliding over his legs, she sits back on his thighs enough that he won't get distracted and she frames his face in her hands, traces the skin underneath his eye. "I'm so sorry, Castle. That's awful."

"The wind was so loud and so fierce that it rattled our windows and I was afraid to go near them incase they shattered. I remember I was desperate for my mother to come home, and hating myself for being that selfish that I would wish for her to go out when it was like that."

"Oh, no, that's not selfish," she breathes, wrapping her arms tighter around him and sliding forward so she can cradle his head to her chest. One hand sifts through his hair, still damp from the rain, and she kisses his temple and the high edge of his cheekbone. "Castle, you were just a kid. It's okay to want your mom."

He captures her mouth, tongue stroking past the seam of her lips and Kate unfolds into him, clinging to his ears. Their kiss builds into something narcotic, until her hips are jerking, but then Castle gentles her with the slow, closed-mouth press of his lips to hers.

"Let's get out. I wanna sit in front of the fire with hot cocoa," he pauses, a wry little grin at one corner of his mouth, and he casts his eyes in a leisurely drag away from hers. "You can come too, I guess."

Kate climbs out of the bath, has to catch herself with both hands at the porcelain rim when her legs start to crumble under her like a fawn. Her partner has towels already set out, folded neatly on the counter, and she grabs one to wrap around her chest, tucking it securely.

Moving to the doorway, she props a hip against it and lets her lips part, reaching up to tug her hair free from its knot and let it tumble over one shoulder in a riot of curls. "You coming?"

"Yes, yeah," he blurts, almost falling onto his butt when he climbs out of the bath and his foot skids in the puddle she's just dripped onto the floor. He slings a towel around his waist in a sloppy knot and hustles her out of the bathroom and across the living space, the two of them love drunk and stumbling.

In her bedroom, Castle backs her up against the wall next to the dresser and his tongue flattens against her clavicle, chasing the water droplets that cling to her skin. She arches, hips coming away from the wall and he captures them in his hands, rocking against her.

"Put your PJs on, Detective," he grins, stepping away from her to rummage in his drawer for pajama pants and an old shirt. For a moment, it's all she can do to stand there beached and suffocating, watching him stepping into his clothes and scrubbing the towel through his hair.

Only when he leaves the room can she get dressed herself, finding the pair of matching flannel pajamas she brought in case the weather turned, in case of a storm. They have buttons up the front like she's six years old, but when she appears in the kitchen a grin stretches Castle's face wide and he fists a hand in the fabric at either side of her waist, draws her in to him.

"I guess we're not sleeping outside tonight?"

"No," she laughs, glancing towards the French doors and the awful, howling nothing beyond them. "We can sleep in my parents' bed. If that's not too weird?"

He laughs, turning away from her when the milk on the stove starts to bubble and pouring in a healthy dose of drinking chocolate. "That sounds fine to me. As long as we're only sleeping. I don't think I could ever look your dad in the eye again."


	9. Chapter 9

**Living is Easy**

* * *

When he wakes up the next morning, the world seems trembling and exhausted after the battering of the storm, remade into something unfamiliar, and the bed is empty. Rick climbs out from under the covers and stands next to her parents' bed, stretching his arms up above his head and groaning. After a slow, aching round on the damn floor in front of the fireplace last night, when they finally made it between the sheets he couldn't help but let her slide over him and sink down, his hands clumsy and disconnected as if his wrists had worn thin as wire.

They need to wash the covers.

 _It's just a bed, Castle_ , she kept saying to him, laughing against his cheek as her hips worked, and then he had planted his feet against the mattress for more traction and she had gasped, her amusement washing away into a trembling sigh of pleasure. It helped, distracted him enough that he could let go of all of his lingering discomfort. If Kate didn't care, then neither did he.

He heads for her bedroom, doesn't spot her anywhere in the living area as he goes, and he pulls on shorts and a t-shirt, digs out a sweater as well to bring with him. Outside, he finds Kate down on the dock, cross-legged with a mug of coffee cradled in both hands. She's wearing the other sweater he brought with him, curled up small inside it with the sleeves hanging down over her hands, and when he sinks to sit at her side she rests her head against his shoulder.

"Good morning," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. One arm slides around her shoulders to keep her close against him and his hand strokes up and down her sweater-covered arm. "How long have you been up?"

"No idea," she chuckles, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping both arms around them. Her hair is damp, drying in a riotous mess of curls, and her bare legs are smooth and golden where they poke out from under her shorts.

He smoothes his free hand up her shin, comes to rest with his palm curled over her knee and his fingers wiggling into the space where her leg hinges, trapped between her calf and her thigh. She huffs at him, shifting to get comfortable again, but she doesn't make any move to push him away. "You're getting tan."

"So are you," she grins, reaching up to skim her fingers along his nose, his cheeks. "You've caught the sun just there. Not enough sunscreen."

A groan escapes him and he shakes his head, feeling the unpleasant tightness where the sun has touched him and made his skin turn raw, pull taut, only now that she's pointed it out to him. "My mother's genes. Even though I'm not a redhead, I burn really easily."

"I think we've got some aloe vera gel in the bathroom. I'll get it for you."

"No, stay," he tightens his grip on her leg and shoulders, squeezes until a huff tumbles out of her and she relaxes again, sinks a little closer into his side. "I don't need it right away. Just sit with me."

The crown of her head nestles under his chin and Kate sets her mug down on her other side, reaches up to tangle her fingers with his at her shoulder. "Okay. I was just looking at the lake."

"It's not so inviting now, huh," he says, following her gaze down to the water below them. The storm has churned the lake, sucked everything up from the depths, and all of the silt from the bottom has mixed through the water to leave it murky and brown. "Do you think the fish are okay?"

"They're fine, " she grins at him, that faint touch of surprise at the corners of her mouth again. Her free hand lays over his thigh, down towards his knee where the material of his shorts doesn't quite cover him, and her thumb strokes up and down as if she's collecting the chill that clings to his skin in a patina after only five minutes of being out here. She must be freezing. "They probably just hang out at the bottom, in the middle. The waves don't go that deep."

He ponders that for a moment, peers out towards the centre of the lake as if he might actually see the mass migration of the fish back to the edges now that it's calm again. "Still, must be weird. Imagine if the sky just started churning."

"It kind of was last night, don't you think?"

"I guess it was," he agrees, stretching his legs out in front of him. "It's colder today. I might go put pants on."

Letting go of his thigh, Kate shifts out from under his arm and turns to face him just slightly, catching his hand in both of hers and keeping it in her lap. "I was thinking maybe we could get out of the cabin today? Maybe go somewhere."

"Sounds good," he says easily, wriggling his fingers in her grip in search of a smile. "Did you have any ideas?"

"You can decide."

"Kate," he sighs, nudging his fingers to lace through hers and bringing her hand up to his mouth, dusting a kiss to her palm that gets captured, caught up in the clasp of their hands. "I know what you're trying to do, but I have no idea what there is for us to do around here. I didn't mean I want to make every decision for us. It's a give and take, right?"

She nods, ducking her head enough that her hair falls to shield her from him, and he catches the little nibble of her teeth at her bottom lip. "Right. Okay. Well, there's this farm my parents and I always used to visit. It's a half hour drive away."

"What kind of farm?" he asks, his interest already piquing. Kate blends in so well in the city, that sexy mix of style and seriousness she seems to put together so effortlessly, that he just cannot imagine her on a farm. At all.

"It's got animals, a petting zoo kind of thing. A farmer's market. It was always a pretty fun day, and we got to know the owners pretty well. I'd like to see them."

"Sounds great."

Rick gets to his knees and leans in to kiss her cheek, cradling the back of her skull as he does so. When he gets to his feet he holds out a hand for her and she takes it, lets him pull her to her feet and walk with her, hands still clasped, back up to the cabin.

They pull on jeans and fleece jackets, and when he catches sight of them both in the mirror above the dresser he can't stop the arc of his grin, both arms sliding around her waist to draw her back against him. "Look at us. We're matching."

"Oh jeez," she rolls her eyes, knocking her head back against his, but he sees the flare of delight high up in her cheeks, colouring the lovely stretch of her throat. Once they've pulled on sneakers and he's found his wallet and his cell phone, stuffed them into his pockets, he follows her out to the car.

The windshield is almost entirely hidden, a blanket of leaves and twigs cloaking it as if the forest detritus had risen up of its own accord and stretched out across his car. They brush everything off as best they can and then Kate rounds the car with the keys in hand. He watches her freeze right before she tugs the door open, making a slow half-turn to stare at him from over the top of the roof.

"I'm doing it again. Do you want to drive?"

"Don't know where we're going," he shrugs, pulling open his own door and sliding into the passenger seat. He waits for her to get in the car and then he leans across the centre console to kiss her, fisting a hand in the collar of her fleece. The pale grey compliments his own navy as if they'd done it on purpose and he smiles to himself as Kate starts the car and backs out of the driveway.

After a few miles, she flicks the radio on to fill the silence in the car and he hums along to the song that plays, not quite sure of the words although the tune seems familiar. He gets to watch her focus, the slight furrow in her brow when there's a particularly winding stretch of road, and he feels his heart soften and pour through the gaps between his ribs.

He is so very, very fortunate to be here with her like this. The car slides easily along the roads, a blurred palette of mossy greens and browns streaking past the windows, and he spots a few other farms before they come to the one they were looking for. Kate parks at the end of a row of cars, in a field that seems to act as the parking lot, and they climb out.

His partner comes around the front of the car to meet him and he captures her hand, takes the keys from her to keep safe in his pocket. They walk together towards a giant barn, the door of which is propped open, and when Kate ducks inside he gets tugged after her into the cavernous interior.

"This is the office," she tells him, letting go of his hand to knock on a door to their right. It comes open almost immediately and a woman maybe fifteen years his senior appears, dressed in slacks and a plaid button down. She gasps, throwing her arms around Kate immediately and squeezing hard. Even though she must be at least a foot shorter than the detective, Beckett looks so small in the older woman's embrace, so young.

"Katie, honey, I'm so glad to see you. How are you? How is darling Jim? And who's this?" Letting go of Kate, the woman reaches for him instead and clasps one of his hands in both of hers, her cheeks full and stained pink with pleasure. "Are you Katie's boyfriend, young man?"

"Yes, actually, I am," he grins, entirely unable to help the way his chest puffs up with pride.

Kate groans, but she takes a step closer and slides her arm through his, smiling at the woman. "Abby, this is Rick Castle, my partner. Abby and her husband Jay own the farm."

"It's so nice to meet you," he says, sliding his arm low down around his girlfriend's waist and tucking two fingers into the pocket of her jeans. "This place is amazing."

"Well thank you honey," Abby says, beaming at him again. She steps out of the office and closes the door behind herself, wiping her palms on the material of her slacks before she gestures towards the main door of the barn. "Let's go find Jay. He'll be so happy to see you, Katie doll. And then let me give this hunk of handsome a tour of this little place."

His cheeks ignite immediately, so stupidly flustered by Abby's unabashed flirting, but Kate just laughs and reaches for his hand, flicks her eyes up to his face before she meets Abby's. "You can give him a tour. Just try not to steal him from me, okay?"

"Oh please," Kate's friend shakes her head, pushing open the barn door and ushering them both out into the rapidly brightening day. "Your dad told me a whole lot about Rick here when he dropped by at Christmas. Including that he looks at you the way Jim used to look at your mom, Katherine."

Rick shoots a glance to his partner at that, both eyebrows rocketing towards his hairline, and she lifts a shoulder at him in a half shrug, offers him a pleased little smile. He turns back to Abby, finds her watching them both with her hands clasped against her heart. "Kate's father spoke to you about me?"

"Yes sir, he did," she nods, turning over her shoulder and lifting onto tiptoe, one hand in the air to wave at a man making his way towards the barn. "Jay, get over here. Come say hello to Katie." She drops back to flat feet and turns back around, grins widely at him. "He told me that Katie finally had somebody who loves her the way she deserves, and everyone was just waiting for the two of you to realise it."

"I already knew," Kate says immediately, her fingers squeezing his. "I was just. . .it's a long story."

Abby's smile softens and she hooks an arm through Kate's, doesn't relinquish her even when Jay makes it to them and captures Beckett in a crushing embrace. "You can tell me all about it over coffee while the boys get to know each other."

Rick swallows hard, a little alarmed at the prospect of being left alone with a man he only met five seconds ago, but Kate stretches onto tiptoe and gets her mouth at his ear, kisses the skin just in front before she whispers to him. "It'll be fine. Jay's a great guy. I'll be in the cafe, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, his mouth brushing her cheek as she makes to turn away from him. "Have fun. Don't go spilling all my secrets."

The girls both laugh, walking away arm in arm, and he watches the joy that seems to surround Kate, limning her and making the day seem a little less grey, before he turns back to Jay.

"Well then, son, I guess I'm giving you a tour."

* * *

Castle comes stumbling into the little cafe right as Kate is draining the last dregs of wonderful, rich coffee from her cup and popping a chunk of the flapjack Abby insisted she try into her mouth. Her partner stumbles on the step down into the seating area and a hand flies up to her mouth.

"Kate," he gasps, shifting from foot to foot as if he wants to bounce on his toes, can't bear to keep still. "Babies. Piglets."

"Dolores is in labour?" Abby asks him, already standing up from the table and Kate follows, hurrying behind her friend with Castle hot at her back, his hands ghosting at her hips. Outside the cafe Abby breaks into a run - Kate is impressed that she's just as agile as she was twenty five years ago - and they follow her to the pig shed where they're met with a low groan, the agonised snorts of the sow.

In the pen, the pig is laying on her side, swollen belly arching high in the air and rippling violently with each contraction; Kate could swear she sees the imprint of a tiny hoof in her side. Jay and one of the farmhands, Ethan, are around the other side of the farrowing mother and he glances up, gestures for them to come into the pen. "She's got two already. Another'll be here any minute. Katie, come see."

She climbs the fence and drops down into the pen on the other side, waits for Castle to join her before she moves around to see. She's careful to give the sow a wide berth, can't imagine how the poor girl must be feeling, and Kate stops next to Jay, allows Castle to slide his hand into hers.

The pig heaves, her side rippling taut, and the two newborn piglets root for milk at her belly. She starts to rock, twitching violently and flapping her tail, and Kate gasps, afraid that she'll roll right over and crush her babies. Instead, another piglet slips silently out into the world and lays in the hay, barely seeming to move.

Kate glances over at Jay and Ethan, feels her forehead creasing up in concern, but they both seem calm. Abby catches her gaze and grins, comes to wrap an arm around Kate's waist and squeeze her, chuckling softly. "Don't you worry, Katie-girl. They're resilient little things. Give him a chance to get his bearings."

Right at her ear she hears Castle's sharp intake of air, his gasp of absolute astonishment and she turns over her shoulder to see him. His eyes are wide and a little glassy, and his grip on her fingers is so tight that they're tingling, feeling static and disconnected from the rest of her.

The newborn piglet's older sibling comes over and nuzzles at him, stays close by until the youngest of the litter finally gets to his feet and wobbles on tiny, unsteady legs around to where his other sibling is still feeding, starts to root at the belly.

They stay and watch in silent awe as the sow births four more piglets, Castle's arms eventually migrating to slide around her waist, his chin propped at her shoulder. After the last baby comes into the world, Abby touches her fingers to Kate's arm as if to keep her balance, leaning in until her mouth is close to Beckett's ear.

"Let's give the new mom some space now, honey. Jay'll watch over her, don't worry."

"Right. Yeah," Kate nods, but it's a battle to force herself to leave. She could stay here, Castle so warm and good at her back and the little snuffling noises of contentment as the piglets feed filling the air. Her partner's hand nudges in against hers, and although it makes it awkward for them both to fit through the pen's gate at once she clutches tighter at him when he makes as if he'll let go.

Once they make it outside, the clouds starting to thin out over their heads to let the sun peek through, Castle shucks out of his sweater and ties it around his waist. He still looks a little shell-shocked, turning to face her with wide eyes and hauling her in against his chest, his breath coming in little gasps. "That was amazing. I just. . .wow. Kate. Wow."

"Yeah," she grins, resting her head against his chest for a moment before she straightens up again. Abby is still inside the barn, so she takes the slice of privacy to cup his face in her hands, stretch up to kiss him. "Probably not as amazing as Alexis being born though, right?"

"I wouldn't know."

"What?" she gapes at him, fisting a hand in the material of his shirt, just over his heart. "Why wouldn't you know?"

He sighs, scraping a hand over his face and turning half away from her, leaning back against the wooden edifice of the barn. "Meredith had an elective caesarean. And she decided she didn't want me to be in the room."

"How could she be allowed to not let you in?" Kate growls, forces herself to suck a cleansing breath through her teeth. She doesn't know Meredith well enough to judge, shouldn't speak negatively of her, but Kate just doesn't understand.

If you had a daughter like Alexis, a husband like Castle, how could you even contemplate walking away from that life?

"She was the mother. It was her wishes that were respected. But they brought Alexis straight out to me, let me hold her while they were stitching Meredith up."

"Still, Castle," she says fiercely, adrenaline pounding hard enough that he must see it, captures her with an arm at her shoulders to draw her against him. "She's your daughter. You should have been there for her birth."

His mouth descends to the top of her head and he kisses the pale line of her scalp, fingers sliding to massage the base of her skull. "You're right. I should have. But I got to be there for every moment after."

"I'd never do that to you," she says without thinking, feels his whole body go stiff and his breath catch, his grip at her neck tightening just a little bit. He tugs back to look at her, mouth opening, and panic leashes her tongue, takes control. "Not that- I'm not- just- I didn't mean-"

"Kate," he chuckles, stemming the flow of her nonsense words when his mouth descends to meet hers, draws a delicate kiss from her. "I understand. I know we're not anywhere close to that yet. But it's good to know that hypothetically, you'd let me be there."

She nods, breaking out of their hug and peeling her own sweater up over her head, too warm now that the last of the clouds have burned away. "Hypothetically? I'd want you there for every single moment."

* * *

Abby makes them try out the hay bale maze, says she wants to see how quickly a trained detective is able to complete it, and he can't stifle his laugher at the immediate determination on Kate's face, the way she chomps at the bit before Abby yells out that they can start.

She's timing them, and that pressure has his own heart racing, his limbs thrumming with energy as he keeps pace with his partner. Kate runs with her right hand against the wall and he wants to groan, needle at her for going with the least inventive way to get out of a maze ever, but he just can't bring himself to. Not when she's so adorable like this, brow creased and a cute little huff of frustration escaping her every time they double back on themselves.

They come bursting out of the exit to find Abby waiting on them, all three of them bursting into laughter at Kate's crow of triumph, the way she slams on the button to stop the timer. "Give it to me."

"Fifty one seconds, Katie. Good job. But you know it was made mostly for the kids that visit us."

"I know," she grins, raking a hand through her hair and lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. It was so overcast earlier that neither of them brought sunglasses, but now he's debating whether to go back to the car and grab the spare pairs they both keep in the glove compartment.

"Can we go to the store now?" he says instead, excited to see the fruits of Jay and Abby's labour. He got a tour of the orchards earlier with Jay, and the older man made him promise to check out the jams and preserves in the farmer's market store that he and Abby run.

Kate turns to look at him, retying her sweater around her waist where her running through the maze has made it come loose, and she grins widely at him as if he's done something to please her, hooks her arm through his. "Yes, let's."

"I'll say goodbye to you kids then," Abby says, capturing them both up in an embrace. He almost laughs at the strangeness of it, this woman who is so much shorter than them both somehow able to hold them tight in her hug. When she lets go she cups Kate's cheek for a moment, and Castle catches a flash of desolation across her face. "You come see us at Christmas Katie, you hear me? Don't leave it so long next time."

"I can't promise anything, what with work, but I'll do my best," Kate says, squeezing both of Abby's hands in hers. He's seen Kate around his own mother, of course, but he's never really seen her like this before. So girlish, seeking out the approval and the adoration of a maternal figure.

They separate, Abby heading back towards the barn to check on Jay and the newborn piglets, and Rick gets to walk hand in hand with Kate towards the building that houses the store. Inside, they meander through the aisles together and fill the basket that Kate carries in the crook of her elbow with things to try.

After they pay for the items they head back towards the car, bumping into Jay on their way. He hugs Kate, shakes Castle's hand in goodbye, but when they carry on walking he calls out and they turn back. His eyes are lit with amusement, a wry little grin tugging at one corner of his mouth, and he casts his eyes slowly from Rick to Kate and back.

"You guys don't go forgetting that we do weddings, when the time comes."

Castle winces, doesn't even dare glance at Kate until they're back at the car already. She's silent beside him and he sucks in a fortifying breath, captures her wrist in his fingers before she can go around to her side of the car. "He means well."

"Oh, I know," she smiles, casting her eyes down for a second before she lifts them to meet his again and her grin stretches a little wider. "I just don't want to jinx anything."

It makes him stagger back against the car and gasp, a hand flying to his mouth, but she's already disappearing around to the driver's side and climbing behind the wheel, waiting on him to get in the car as well. He does, bones made sluggish as lead by the surprise of it and the barrage of images that wash over him.

Kate at the opposite end of the aisle, absolutely radiant and smiling wider than he's ever seen. Everyone they care about, everyone who's been rooting for them for so long, cheering and throwing confetti when they're finally announced as husband and wife. Eyes slipping closed, Rick allows himself to daydream about their wedding day for the remainder of the car ride back to the cabin, overcome with how much he yearns for it.

Neither of his previous marriages were successful, and he knows that probably scares Kate a bit when it comes to the prospect of them taking that step. Hell, it scares _him_. For a long time after he divorced Gina, he believed that maybe it was him. Maybe he was just one of those people that wasn't supposed to get married.

It's different now. Everything is. He's pretty quiet when they pull into the driveway and get out of the car, goes around to collect the bags from the trunk and carry them up the three steps of the porch and into the cabin. Kate's waiting for him in the kitchen and when he sets the bags down on the countertop she starts putting things away in the cabinets and the refrigerator, her body flitting around him.

Only when all the bags are empty does she come to him, sliding her arms around his waist and stepping in close until their thighs brush together, her mouth meeting his in a slow, careful kiss. "Are you okay? You're very quiet."

"Yeah," he nods, brushes another kiss to her lips. She sighs, seems a little drowsy with contentment and he wraps his arms tighter around her, clutches her close to his chest. He adores her, and now that he's got all these images in his head of the rest of his life with her, being her husband, he could almost weep with how badly he yearns for it.

"You know you can talk to me right?"

He jolts a little, alarmed by the uncertainty in her voice, and he leans back in the circle of her arms to look at her face. "I know, Beckett. I always have known that. You're actually a surprisingly good listener when you're not glaring at me."

"Shut up," she huffs, swatting at his arm, but it worked. She's smiling now, pleased and almost a bit shy, maybe. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry."

"I could eat," he says easily, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek before he untangles himself from their embrace and heads for the refrigerator, tugs it wide open. "Ooh, we have so much good stuff now. I want pâté and I also want cheese and crackers, and apples."

She laughs, coming to stand beside him and tugging all of the things he lists back out of the refrigerator, all of them stamped with the little insignia for the farm. "We can have all of them. Pâté on toast?"

"God yes," he groans, already tasting the phantom burst of flavour. They fix their lunch in quiet companionship, moving easily around one another to get at the things they need, and he carries both plates out to the back deck. Kate's got a glass of water for each of them and she sets them on the little table between the two adirondack chairs, sinking down to sit and accepting her plate from him.

"Do you wanna sleep back out here tonight?" she asks after a few minutes of quiet munching and appreciative groans - those are mostly from him.

He thinks for a moment, pops an apple slice into his mouth. It's so crisp and delicious that he can't help his grin, offering Kate one of the segments of apple. She lets him feed it to her, humming her appreciation and he finishes chewing his mouthful, swallows it down. "I don't know. I kind of forgot how nice a real bed can be. Especially for the things we were doing."

"Right," she laughs, reaching across the table to push his hair back, arrange it away from his forehead. He hasn't been bothering with the gel like normal while they've been here, can't see the point in wasting that time when he could be spending it making out with Kate or swimming or reading. "Yeah. Well, I'm happy to sleep in that bed, as long as you're sure you're okay with it?"

"Kate," he sighs, catching her hand as she starts to withdraw it from him. "Stop. Stop asking if I'm okay with every decision. I'll let you know if I'm not."

She ducks her head, arranges the food left on her plate without actually eating any of it. Seeing her like this, unsure of herself, is so completely unnatural that for a moment he hates himself for bringing it up at all, wishes he'd just bitten his tongue the way they always do. Then again, they almost didn't make it here because of those silences between them. He doesn't want to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over.

"Hey," he says, waits for her to meet his eyes and smiles, wide and probably quite a lot foolish-looking. "Let's go out for dinner tonight. It's Friday night, Kate. Let's have a real date."

"Okay," she grins at him, always a little shy whenever he tries to romance her. Kate plays with the long strands of her hair, twirling them around her finger as she sits back in her chair. He eyes her plate, wanting more of the truly sublime food they got from the market, and she laughs and pushes it towards him. 'You'd better leave some room if we're gonna go out."

He scoffs at that, bridges the distance between them to stroke his fingers up the length of her arm, flirt with the peek of her clavicle out from under her shirt. A shiver makes its slow way through her and he grins, fingers moving still higher to tease the soft lobe of her ear.

"Oh don't worry, Beckett. I fully intend to burn it off."


	10. Chapter 10

**Living is Easy**

* * *

After they finished their lunch his fingers started to ache, and when Kate spoke to him he took a long time to answer her, had to wade through the mire of his distracted brain to process what she had said and think of a response. He needed to write, and his partner knew almost immediately, pushing on his arm to steer him towards his laptop, murmuring that she would take care of the dishes.

When he finally lifts his head, neck aching from such a long time hunched over his laptop - he really needs to remember that writing on the couch is never kind on him - he has no idea what time it is, or where Kate has gotten to. But he's got three chapters in front of him and they're _good_ , he's sure of it. Of course they'll have to get Gina's approval, but he's confident that they'll only need minimal editing.

He's getting to the main thrust of the plot now, everything unravelling faster than his fingers can keep up with, and Nikki and Rook are rehashing arguments that sound strikingly familiar. He hopes Kate won't mind that; actually, maybe he should let her read the draft before he sends it to Black Pawn.

Really, he probably should have been doing that all along. There's no way she would have given her approval to any of Heat Wave though, so maybe it's for the best that he ploughed right through her wishes in those first couple of years and did what he wanted. It got them here, didn't it?

Rick stands up from the couch and closes his laptop, carries it through to Kate's bedroom to set it on top of the dresser. He doesn't like to leave his computer lying around, a habit he formed when his daughter was a toddler that he's never quite been able to shake.

He finds Kate at the front of the house, clearing away some of the detritus that the wind last night whipped into a frenzy and left scattered all over the driveway and the front porch. She's got a trash bag in one hand and a brush in the other and he watches her for a moment, leaning against the doorframe. There's a patina of sweat across the back of her shoulders and her neck and her cheeks are flushed, her hair tied haphazardly on top of her head.

"You guys don't have a leaf blower?" he calls out eventually and she glances over her shoulder at him, face smooth and serene as the lake at the back of the cabin. So she knew he was here, even though she's got earbuds in. She tugs them out, pulls the iPod from her pocket to pause it and jogs up the steps of the porch to meet him.

"Actually we do, but I didn't think it was bad enough to warrant it. Are you done writing?"

He grins and reaches out to take the trash bag from her, sets it down on the porch. Now that she's got one hand free he steps closer, cradles her hips, and her arm slides up to curl at his neck, fingers sifting through the fine baby hairs at his nape. He kisses her slowly, tastes the sharp flavour of yard work on her. "I am. I got three chapters done."

"That's fantastic," she grins at him, and then she pushes the brush against his chest and disappears inside the cabin, calling back as she goes. "Now you can help."

A laugh bubbles out of him and he shrugs, starts to brush up all of the leaves and twigs that are scattered along the porch. He's noticed that although there is a bench out front, it doesn't seem to be used much, and when Kate reappears with the roll of trash bags he makes a show of sitting on it, pats the seat next to him and waits for her to sink down too.

"You never sit here. We're always out back instead."

"Yeah," she smiles, leaning back against the sun-warmed slats and sliding her hand into his, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head and closing her eyes against the glare. "We got it for when I was a kid and I used to ride my bike up and down the driveway, so my mom could sit out with a book and still keep an eye on me, and we just never got rid of it."

He turns to look at her, a full body shift with one leg drawn up underneath himself. "I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was thirteen."

"You didn't?" an eyebrow lifts at him and she sets the roll of trash bags down, rests her free hand at the curve of her knee instead.

"Nope," he shrugs, chuckling. "In the city it's not exactly easy, you know? You have to go to the park and it's always so crowded there. And my mother was always too busy to teach me anyway."

Kate squeezes his fingers, her thumb stroking back and forth along the seam of his wrist, and she shuffles a little closer to him until her head rests against his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. "Who taught you?"

"The summer I was thirteen, a play my mother was starring in went on a cross country tour. I went with her, but I stayed in Texas for the rest of the summer after the production moved on, with a friend of hers from high school. It was this huge dairy farm, and I got roped in to helping. Everyone that lived there was expected to, including guests."

"I bet you loved it, didn't you?"

He grins, remembering all too well those first few weeks when getting up with the sun just about killed him and he would flop down exhausted into his bed, right after he cleared his plate at dinner. In those first few days he didn't understand how his mom's friend and her family - husband, kids, grandmother - didn't seem tired, stayed up late playing card games together. "It took some getting used to, but I grew to love it, yes. I got to drive a tractor."

"Were you scared?" she asks, bringing both legs up to hook over his thigh. Rick curls his free hand over them to keep her there, feels the play of muscle under his touch.

"Oh, terrified. Those are big machines. But it was my mother's friend's husband who taught me how to ride a bike. They had six kids, and on Sundays the children didn't have to help with farm duties and after church they got the whole afternoon to roam free."

"Oh," she breathes, desolation spilling across her face. "And you couldn't go with them."

He shrugs in self-deprecation, isn't looking for her pity here. Yes, his childhood wasn't as idyllic as hers, he never had two loving parents and a stable home, but he got to have adventure. He got to see so many different places, meet so many people, and he wouldn't trade it - or his mother - for anything.

"He taught me while they were gone, so that they wouldn't know that was the reason I wasn't with them. Gave up his time to help me out."

"That was good of him. How many times did you fall off?" she smirks, nudging her elbow into his side.

A laugh bubbles out of him and he shakes his head, sighs at his own foolish self. "Hundreds. But I got it eventually, and then the next week I went with them and not one of them had a clue it was my first real time on a bike."

"Did you teach Alexis?" she murmurs, nuzzling her nose against the material of his shirt. She seems sleepy, and he wonders if he can persuade her to take a nap before they go out this evening.

"I did, when she was six. I'm still not happy about the Vespa though."

That has a laugh tumbling out of her and she wraps an arm at his waist, her eyes slipping closed. Castle brings a hand up slowly to cup the back of her head, presses a trio of soft kisses to her temple. She yawns, her back snapping taut for a moment, and then she sags heavy against him. "Why am I so tired?"

"Well we didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and you were up early," he says gently, working his fingers into the knot of tension where her neck meets her shoulder until she groans. "Why don't you go and nap for an hour or so? I'll finish up out here."

"Kay," she yawns again, squinting bleary-eyed at him and he chuckles, helps her to climb off of both him and the bench. "Don't let me sleep for more than an hour."

He lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, smiles at her and squeezes the fingers still in his before he lets her go. "I won't. Sweet dreams, Beckett."

"Thanks," she laughs, and then she disappears inside the cabin. He really wants to join her, burns with the need to just lay down at her side and watch her tumble into sleep, listen to the adorable little snuffling sounds she makes.

She would kill him if he did that, hates it whenever he gets mired down in adoration and can't stop staring, so he forces himself to get up and carry on with raking the leaves. If he can't be with her, he'll at least do something to earn a smile when she wakes up again.

* * *

The noise of the shower tugs her out of dreaming but it's not violent, not that awful jerk like every morning with her alarm. No, she just shifts slowly from being in the rain, spinning around with her yellow skirt flaring around her body, to curled up in the sheets listening to the thunder of the shower water hitting the floor.

She napped in her childhood bed, and for a moment she feels entirely separate from time itself, wading through the morass of memory to get back to who she is. Arching her back to awaken her drowsy muscles, Kate rolls over onto her stomach and folds her arms, props her chin on them.

He's singing, some soulful, bluesy tune she can't quite put her finger on and she wriggles her toes, his voice pouring over her like honey or whiskey, something rich and dark. Castle has always observed her, but she rather likes getting to turn the tables on him, witness what he gets up to when he thinks she's asleep.

A peek at her watch tells her it's almost five and she sighs, scrubs at her eyes. If they're going out tonight she wants to get a little bit dressed up, take the time to blow dry her hair and put on eyeliner, and she still needs to find something to wear.

They haven't even decided on where they're going yet, but none of the restaurants around here are fancy. Not like in the city. She could probably get away with wearing jeans if she wanted, but the idea of wearing a pretty dress and flirting with him all evening is deliciously appealing.

When he comes out of the bathroom with a towel knotted at his waist she's sitting up in the bed, cross-legged, and he startles to see her, one hand flying down to secure his towel and his modesty. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Yes," she hums, standing up to meet him in the doorway and catch one of the droplets that slides down his chest on the tip of her finger. "But I don't mind. There are worse ways to wake up than the sound of you singing."

"I'm flattered," he laughs, moving around her to head for the dresser. Unhooking the towel from his waist, he scrubs his shoulders dry, tips his head upside down to run the towel over his hair as well. Kate sinks back to sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly not in so much of a hurry to get her own shower, and watches as he pulls on boxer shorts. "Do you have a plan for where we'll go? How fancy?"

She laughs, strips her shirt up over her head and unfastens the button on her shorts, pulls them off too. "Not very. Nowhere around here is going to throw you out for not wearing a tux, Castle, don't worry. Just wear something you're comfortable in."

"Awesome, just my underwear then," he grins, meeting her eyes in the mirror over the dresser. She rolls hers at him, standing to head for the bathroom, but she detours to slide her arms around his waist and kiss the wing of his shoulder blade, smell the shower freshness of his skin.

His hands cover hers at his belly and she stays for a while, her forehead resting at the thick muscle in his shoulder, lips forming a shadow of a kiss against him. Eventually, her desire to get dolled up for him outweighs how much she wants to stay here in the pool of sunlight pouring in through the window and she steps away, heads for the bathroom.

The shower in the cabin runs on a tank, and she can't help the easy stretch of her smile when the water cascades over her head, her hair a sodden rope twisted over one shoulder. He's left her plenty of hot it seems, but she hurries through washing her hair anyway, just in case it starts to run out. Nothing worse than having to rinse the last of the shampoo out of her hair in cold water.

After she's done she wraps a towel around her chest and tucks it in securely, stays in the bathroom to rub lotion into her skin and tweeze the few eyebrow hairs that are getting a little bit out of hand. Once she's done she pads through to the bedroom, hears the low rumble of his voice out in the kitchen. Only snatches of words, but enough to know that he's talking to his daughter.

Kate tries not to listen in, wanting to respect that boundary, and she concentrates on patting her skin dry and picking out fresh underwear, a matching set in intricate white lace that she's managed to keep hidden from him so far. She dries her hair with her head upside down and when she straightens again, turns off the blowdryer, the silence unnerves her.

Tiptoeing over to the bedroom door, she peeks through the gap and gets a clear line of sight right through to the living area, where Castle is on the couch with his laptop again, tapping away. When he was writing earlier she got to watch for a long stretch, curled up in the armchair opposite, and he was so sucked in to the world he's created he didn't even notice she was there. It was fascinating to see him work, the little furrow between his brows, the snort and furious stabbing of the backspace key when a sentence didn't quite flow the way he wanted it to.

If he's writing now, or even just editing, there's no danger of him interrupting her getting ready. She wants to surprise him, work to make his jaw come unhinged the way it did that first night when she pulled off her rain-soaked clothes and stretched across his sheets. Kate curls her hair and puts on eyeliner and lipstick, inspects herself critically in the mirror.

She hasn't exactly spent a lot of time with her reflection since they got to the cabin, content to let her hair dry naturally and leave her skin free of makeup, and the woman gazing back at her seems unfamiliar, a changeling. There are new creases around her eyes, her skin flush and golden, and she looks so at peace. This is what he does to her. Makes it so that even when they fight, she's happier than she ever was before she met him.

Kate finds the white summer dress she brought in case they went out one evening and pulls it on over her head, twirls in front of the mirror and laughs freely. It has a little eyelet cutout pattern along the hem that gives it an air of delicacy, and the skirt flares out at her waist, makes her feel girlish and a bit like a fool, smitten with him.

She has a pair of wedges to go with it and they're high, make her calves hum with awareness when she slips them on. It's been a little while since she's worn heels - at the cabin she's been mostly wandering around in bare feet - and she takes a few experimental strides back and forth across the room. She'll have to concentrate a little bit harder, but they're not impossible and she grins, so looking forward to being able to tease with her mouth right at his ear.

A spritz of perfume to her wrists and neck and she's done, strides out into the living area in search of him. Apparently these shoes do what the pad of her silent feet could not - rouse him from his laptop and have him twisting over the back of the couch to watch her approach.

"Holy. . ." he breathes, clumsy hands fumbling to save his document and slam the computer closed. He leaves it dumped on the couch cushion next to him and falls over himself to get to her, slamming to a stop right in front of her as if she's something precious, kept behind glass. "Kate. You're gorgeous. Wow."

"Thank you," she smiles, dipping her head for a moment under the intensity of his gaze, the love that spills out all over the floor. It gives her a chance to rake her eyes over him, the dark slacks and pale blue button down that lets a hint of his chest peek out from under the fabric, and she hums as she lifts her eyes to his. "You look really good."

That makes him beam, chest puffing up in boyish pride and he reaches out to touch, strokes his fingers over the pattern at the bottom of her dress. "Do you know where you want to go?"

"There's a grill house a couple of towns over that's pretty good, if you're up for that?"

"Sure," he says easily, leaning over the back of the couch to collect his laptop and cradling it to his chest, both arms around it. "Let me just put this away and grab my stuff."

Kate stops him with a hand curled at the back of his neck, leaning in until she feels the heat of the computer at the bare skin of her chest. Her mouth meets his slowly, tongue slicking inside and he groans, kissing her back. It's interesting to see how much more work he allows his teeth and tongue to do when his hands are otherwise engaged, substituting the slide of fingers up under her dress with a sharp bite at her bottom lip.

He leaves her gasping, sagging to lean against the back of the couch, but she doesn't miss the drunk stumble of his walk to her bedroom, the hitch in his chest as his lungs struggle.

Oh, tonight is going to be fun.

* * *

They're halfway through their main course when he notices that something isn't quite right. The food is wonderful, and he loves the atmosphere of this place, how many families are packed in. Some people don't like the noise of kids in a restaurant, but that's never been him, and he gets tangled up in a game of peek-a-boo with the little girl the next booth over.

He should have been paying more attention to Kate, should be holding her hand across the table and staring into her eyes, but there are so many fascinating people in here and every time he _has_ looked at her she's been smiling at him, her eyes soft with understanding.

That was earlier. Now, she won't look at him at all, gaze caught on the pulled pork burger she stopped actually eating a little while ago, has been moving around her plate instead. Their waitress comes back over and he asks for more drinks, smiles wide enough to compensate for Kate's unwillingness to engage.

When the young blonde hurries away from their table again he slides out of his side of the booth and in next to Kate, draping his arm around her shoulders and dusting his mouth to her cheek. Her spine stays pulled taut and she doesn't lean in to his warmth, almost seems to be holding herself away from his touch.

"What's wrong?"

"You're flirting. With everyone, but especially her," she says quietly, picking at the ragged edge of a hangnail. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, shoulders hunched and she seems so tiny. A fragile, blown-glass facsimile of his partner.

He takes a moment to let the hurt glance off him, careful not to let his body twitch and betray him. "Kate, I'm just being friendly. You know me. I'm charming, I can't help it."

"I know you can't help but flirt with anything on two legs," she grumbles, but as he reels with the shock of it she grabs for his hand and clutches it, shifts in the booth to face him. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I know that isn't true."

"But I made you feel like it is?"

Kate shakes her head at that, frustration colouring her cheeks and making that zigzag vein pulse in her forehead, a tic starting up in her jaw. "No. Just. . .I get jealous when I see you with other women."

"I wasn't _with her_ ," he says very slowly, the way he might have explained something to his daughter ten years ago. He would kneel down and put his hands on Beckett's shoulders if he thought it might help. "I was just being polite to our server. What is this really about?"

"I'm still not over Jacinda," she blurts, a hand flying up to cover her mouth immediately.

Swallowing past the sudden clog of grief and guilt in his throat, Rick moves back to his own side of the booth and for a long moment says nothing, just watches the systematic way Beckett shreds her napkin. When he does eventually speak his voice comes low, gravelly, from that dark place inside him he toppled head first into when he thought she didn't love him back.

"You're not over her?"

"You _left me_ ," she says, lifting her gaze to his and her eyes are glassy, her bottom lip trembling. Her nose wrinkles and she sucks in a shaky breath. "You didn't even ask what was going on, to hear my side of things. You just ran straight to the nearest blonde."

He grunts, draws his shoulders in to protect himself from the lash of her words. "I thought I'd been wasting my time with you for a whole year, Beckett. I needed to forget, and I needed someone as far away from you as it was possible to find."

"You needed to talk to me, damn it," she growls, pushing aside both the pile of napkin strips and her plate so she can rest her forearms on the table, hands clasped. It makes him feel dirty, like a criminal, and he shudders hard. "You never gave me a chance, Castle. And it hurt me to see you with her, when all that time I'd been working to be better so that I could be with you. I _hated_ it. The persona I hadn't seen in years and blonde hairs stuck to your jacket when you were supposed to be in love with me."

"I never stopped being in love with you," he sighs, dropping his head into his hands. They've had such a wonderful day, and it's supposed to be date night. They were supposed to flirt and let their hands wander and not even make it to a horizontal surface once they got back to the cabin. It was never supposed to turn into this. "Kate, please, let's not do this now. Please? Let's just enjoy dinner."

"I didn't mean to ruin it."

He reaches across the table to take her hands, holds them both until she lifts her eyes to his. "You didn't. Nothing's ruined. And we will talk about this, about everything that happened between us then, but let's not do it here."

"Okay," she nods, chewing on her lip, and then she manages a smile for him. It's a little watery, trembling at the edges, but it holds steady. "I'm being an idiot. And I love watching the way you are with people, how much you love them. I know you're not flirting."

"Only room for one extraordinary woman in my heart," he says, letting the corner of his mouth quirk into a grin at her. She blushes, ducking her head, but she starts eating again and he relaxes against the back of the booth, sagging with the tide of receding adrenaline.

Another crisis averted. He keeps forgetting how much they still have to work through, how many times they've kept silent, kept the hurt to themselves. It keeps exploding out of them both at random times, as if all of the sex and the constant togetherness is a recipe for a bottle rocket. It's good, that they're finally able to be honest with each other, and he sort of hopes they can hold on to this newfound truthfulness once she goes back to work.

They finish their meals in easy silence, sneaking glances at one another and finding excuses to touch, fingers brushing and their feet bumping under cover of the table. In the car on the way back to the cabin he curls his palm over her knee and leaves it there for the whole journey, thumb stroking as much of her thigh as he can reach.

"Wait a second," Kate says when she cuts the engine, hand falling to cover his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wreck our dinner. I wanted it to be special."

Rick tucks the spill of hair back behind her ear, leaves his hand against her cheek. "It was special, Kate. And I'd rather you talk to me if something's bothering you than pretend everything is fine and be secretly miserable. I don't want that, for either of us."

"Okay," she nods, opening her door and stepping out into the rapidly cooling night. He follows, chasing her up the porch steps and sliding an arm around her waist as she roots for the front door key in her purse. His mouth descends to the curve of her neck and she moans, sagging back against him. "Let me get us inside."

He lets her go, keeps his hands shoved down into his pockets while she unlocks the house and ushers them both inside, flicking on the lights. Leaning against the front door, he watches as Kate slips out of her shoes and drops down to flat feet, hissing at the sudden stretch.

"You wanna go straight to bed?" she hums, stalking back towards him and reaching for his hand, tugging him along with her in the riptide of her need.

"God yes," he gasps, and then somehow they're already falling together onto the mattress and she's rolling, sliding a knee over his hips and sinking down. Her mouth descends, rich and fierce with possessiveness and he opens to her. Lets her do whatever the hell she wants with him.

* * *

Afterwards, he's beached, washed up on the shores of their mutual satisfaction and Kate pads quietly around the room, tugs on his button down and closes the shades before she slides back in to bed with him. He grunts, orienting to her presence and she gets both arms around him, arranges him to lay in her lap. Fingers card through his hair over and over and he nuzzles into her touch, these little soft noises of contentment spilling out of him.

"Mm. Kate. M'sorry about Jacinda. I was an idiot."

"No, shh," she hums, leaning down and ignoring the twinge of protest in her spine to kiss his forehead. Curled over him like this she feels feral, protective of what they have. Enough that she could rip Jacinda's throat out with her damn teeth. "I shouldn't have lied to you.

His arm comes up, jerky and floundering until it curls awkwardly at her shoulder and tugs, brings her down to lay next to him. "I forgive you. And I love you."

Lifting up a little, Kate pillows herself on top of his chest instead, listens to the quiet thump of his heart inside his chest. His fingers are at her back, playing with her hair, and she rubs her nose against the skin of his neck, suddenly exhausted.

"I forgive you, too."

"Never even kissed her, y'know," he says, his words slurring a little and his mouth smudging against the crown of her head. "Couldn't. Made me sick."

A wave of relief washes over her head and she gasps, splays a hand at his bare chest and braces herself there to lift up and see him. It takes a while, but his eyes come open and settle on her face, almost surprised to find her here. "You didn't?"

"No, Kate. Just wanted to be kissing you."

She leans in to touch her lips to his, a closed-mouth press in deference to his exhaustion, and one hand curls at the back of her neck, his thumb pushing her ear forward. Kate tugs away and lets her forehead rest against his, their noses nudging together. "I only want to be kissing you, too."

"Good," he grunts, using his grip to bring her back down to lay flat on the mattress, his arm felled across her body. "Would be awkward otherwise."

"Yeah," she laughs, feels the ridiculous, scalding press of tears at the back of her eyes. "It would be."

He sighs, a breath that seems to draw out forever, and he snuggles a little closer to her and tucks the sheets around them. She left the window open to let the night air come in, clear and crisp, but it has gooseflesh rising along her arms and she's grateful for the warmth of him beside her.

"Sleep now, Kate."

"Okay. I'm sleeping," she promises him, her lips forming a kiss against the shell of his ear, and then she lets the grit drag her eyes closed and she follows him right under, tumbling into unconsciousness to the almost-rhythm of his grunts and sighs, his breathing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Living is Easy**

* * *

When Kate wakes up, her partner is still sacked out on his stomach next to her, a great immobile giant, and it doesn't seem as if he'll be joining her in the land of the living any time soon. For a long while she lays on her side next to him. one arm curled up underneath her pillow and her free hand tracing patterns along his spine, fingers walking along the rickety ladder of vertebrae.

He never wakes up when she touches him like this, so Kate lets herself have the time to be quiet and here with him, hopes the brush of her skin over his will let her apology sink into his unconscious mind. She ruined things last night; no matter how many times he says she didn't, how amazing the sex was, she knows it's true.

It had surprised her almost as much, if not more, than it had surprised him. The sudden, fearsome possessiveness. The frothing rage, left over from a couple of months ago, that she couldn't keep sitting on any longer. Usually she keeps her mouth firmly shut when it comes to him, doesn't let him know that he's hurt her or that she cares about him or any of the important stuff, but she doesn't want it to be like that any longer.

If this between them is going to last as long as she wants it to - and she's thinking long term here, thinking matching rockers and their grandchildren playing out front - they have to be able to share. Just not. . .not on date night, not in a restaurant full of people. That's the part she's sorry for. Not her honesty, but the way it came out. And she will make it up to him, she's determined to.

After a little while her contentment with just watching him sleep gives way to a need to do something, not lay here wasting the day. Kate slips out from between the sheets and tucks them close around him, holds her breath through the snick of the bedroom door opening and the soft whoosh as she closes it carefully behind her.

The bedroom has blackout blinds that make it velvety with darkness, Castle's presence in the bed next to her more a shadow than a solid being, but when she comes out into the living area the sun is already up high, cradled in the sky that sweeps over her head like a single brushstroke.

She pads through to the kitchen and starts the coffee machine, leaves it to percolate while she heads for her childhood bedroom to get dressed. Kate pulls on jean shorts and a soft jersey top, pushes the sleeves up past her elbows. Sleeping on her curls has made them riotous and snaggled so she winds her hair into a braid over one shoulder, pulls out a few pieces to frame her face.

Last night she was too distracted - too worn out - to remember to take off her makeup and she chuckles at her own reflection, hunts for her makeup remover to wipe away the dark smudges of panda circles that her mascara left on her cheeks. The coffee machine beeps from the kitchen and she heads back to it, pours herself a cup and adds a splash of milk. As she stirs she gazes out of the window over the sink, suddenly a little wistful. A pair of brightly coloured birds pick at the edge of the forest, searching for nuts and seeds and she watches them work, the way they chatter to one another and hop about, wings occasionally fluttering.

Kate takes her coffee out to the back porch and folds herself into an adirondack chair, legs crossed and her mug resting on the side table to cool before she drinks. There's a deer down at the edge of the lake, graceful neck extended to let her tongue flick into the water, and Kate wishes her partner was awake to see this. She knows he loves to sleep, will happily stay in bed until midday if he has nowhere else to be, but the early morning teems with life and she hates that every day he misses it.

She drinks her coffee and stays for a while with the mug cradled in both hands, listening to the way the woods come awake and watching dragonflies swoop down to hover right above the surface of the water, gorging themselves on mayflies. Eventually, she heads inside to clean her teeth and rinse out her mug, leaves it on the draining rack.

In front of the bookshelves, Kate kneels down on the hardwood and skims the titles, tracing her finger over the uneven rows. Her mother always kept the novels organised by colour because she thought it looked nicer, but they jump wildly in size and genre. She pulls one of Castle's early books free from the shelf and carries it with her back outside, dangling her feet over the arm of the chair as she reads.

He wakes up maybe an hour into her reading; through the open window she hears the groan that always erupts from him when he gets dragged out of sleep one way or another, and she laughs quietly. His footsteps come clattering out towards her - he's never exactly been a master of stealth - and she pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head to see him, sliding the dust jacket over the pages she's read to mark her place before she closes the novel and rests it on the side table.

"Good morning."

"Hi," he grins, coming to sit in the other chair and swiping a hand over his face, his jaw unhinging on a gigantic yawn. "You sleep okay?"

She reaches across the gap between the chairs for him, tangling their fingers together and swinging their clasped hands in the empty space. "I slept great. How about you?"

"Yeah, good. Gorgeous morning."

"Uh-huh," she nods, gazing out towards the lake. It's still and smooth this morning, like a sheet of cut glass, and she has to push her sunglasses back down over her eyes to shield them from the glint of sunlight. "A deer came to drink. I would have taken a picture but I didn't want to move to get my phone and startle it."

He frowns, following her line of sight out towards the lake as if he expects it to still be there, although the deer has long scampered back into the underbrush. "Damn. I missed that?"

"It might come back. If you sit quietly," she offers, lets a slow smirk spread over her face. It makes him huff and pout at her, but he is quiet this morning, enough that it's throwing her off, making her nervous. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" he turns to look at her again, his hair sticking up all over his head and the dark fabric of his shirt clinging to his biceps, his pectoral muscles. "Yeah. Just thinking about yesterday."

Yeah. She was afraid of that. "Castle, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"What?" he blurts, frowning at her, and she stops talking, her mouth hanging open. "No, Kate, the piglets. I was just hoping that they're alright."

"Not. . .not what happened in the restaurant?"

He tugs on her hand until she comes out of her chair and over to his, sinks to sit in his lap. Both arms slide around her waist and he makes his knees bounce, jostling her so she gasps and clutches at his forearms, clinging to him. "No. You were upset. I'm glad you shared that with me. I don't want you to be hurting all alone."

"I'm never gonna be alone again, am I?" she says, rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically, but she lets the smile bloom, lets him see how much that delights her. It's appealing in a way she never would have imagined, to have somebody here to talk to whenever she needs it, someone who's on her side.

"Nope," he grins, wiggling with delight and dropping a kiss to the curve of her neck, nibbling at her earlobe. "You're stuck with me, Beckett."

She sighs, resting her head against his shoulder and lacing their fingers together. "Damn. And by the way, the piglets are fine. They all looked perfectly healthy, and it's not exactly the first litter Jay's had on his hands."

"Any plans for today?" he says after a while, both of them watching the gentle lap of the lake against the shoreline. Her fingertip traces along the ridges of his knuckles over and over and she hums, shifting to see his face a little more clearly. He hasn't shaved in a few days and his scruff is dark and devastating where it grows in along his jawline; she sort of hopes that he'll hold off for a while. At least until they get back to the city.

"I think we need to go grocery shopping again. We're out of bread and milk. And we could just wander around town for a bit?"

He kisses her cheek, his nose pressed against the edge of her cheekbone so she feels the wash of his breath, her skin tingling with it. "Sure. How about we walk into town instead of driving?"

"Okay," she grins, wrapping both arms around his bicep and opening her mouth to his muscle, her tongue just darting out to taste. He growls, shuddering violently, and lifts her off of him, leaves her in the chair as he stands.

"I'm gonna go and get dressed. Won't be long."

Kate arches in the chair and stretches her legs out, splaying her toes to admire the periwinkle polish against the wooden slats of the porch. She's impressed that it's lasted even through swimming in the lake, but her fingernails seem so naked in comparison. Maybe she'll find some polish in town today, give herself a manicure. "Take all the time you need. I'll be right here."

* * *

Their walk into town was longer than he had been anticipating, he's not ashamed to admit that. By the time they get to the main street his shirt is clinging to his skin with the heat of the day and they duck inside the grocery store, twin groans spilling out of them at the blessing of the AC. They buy more water and head outside again; Kate wants to explore before they get any actual shopping.

Outside, they meander back towards the gazebo they visited a few days ago and sink down to sit in its lovely shade, sharing a bench. He drains half of his water bottle in one swallow, swipes a hand across the back of his mouth. "Kate?"

"Yeah?" she hums, pouring a little of her water over her wrists and rubbing them together, pressing them either side of her neck to cool off.

"Won't the groceries get ruined if we carry them all the way back in this heat?"

She groans, covering her eyes with a hand and letting her head thud back against the wall. "Crap. I didn't think of that. Why didn't I think of that?"

"I was distracting you," he grins, sliding a fingertip all the way up her arm, from her wrist right up to dip into the pool of her clavicle. She shivers, reaching for his finger to bring it up to her mouth. Her lips form a kiss at the very tip and then she bites him gently, her tongue immediately darting out to soothe.

A broken growl rips from his throat and he tugs his hand away, closes his eyes against the ragged lust on her face, her parted lips. She sighs, sipping at her water again and he hears the gulp of her swallow, eyes popping open to see her again. "I guess we'll have to walk home and then come back with the car later to get groceries."

"Do we have to walk back right _now_?" he whines, pouting in spite of himself. He's not exactly eager to repeat that experience so soon, would like an hour or so to cool down before they set off again.

"Oh jeez, no. Let's stay here for a bit."

He kisses her for that, gratitude making him foolish and smitten with her, and she smiles against his mouth. So wide that their kiss falls apart around the stumbling block of teeth, and his fists clench so he doesn't slide a hand into her hair. She hates being touched when she's all sweaty.

"I saw a sign while you were paying for the water. Apparently there are puppies at the Johnson house. Do you know who that is?"

"Yeah," she laughs, screwing the cap back on her water and setting it down on the floor next to her foot. "Tilly Johnson was a year older than me, but she used to let me hang out with her and her friends when I was here. Her dad was really nice, too."

"No mom?"

Kate shakes her head, teeth sinking into her bottom lip for a moment. A frown creases her brow and then she lifts her eyes to his. "Died when Tilly was nine or ten. Actually Castle, she was one of the only people that didn't piss me off when my mom died. She said all the right things."

"You talked to her?"

"She wrote to me," Kate says quietly, picking at a loose thread at the hem of her shorts. "Left her number. I never called. I should have called her."

His arms come around her immediately and she sinks into his embrace, her head resting heavy against his chest. "I'm sure she understood, Kate. And it was a long time ago. Don't feel bad about that."

"We should go see the puppies," she says, tugging out of his embrace after a moment and lifting her hand to cup his cheek, smooth her thumb under his eye. "I'd like to see Mr Johnson, too. Ask him how Tilly's doing."

"Okay," he smiles, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth before he pulls back again and stands, collects his water from the ground. Their hands bump together as they walk, knuckles brushing in time with their strides, but it's too humid to slide his fingers into hers.

The house is only a couple of streets over from the main road through town, and as they walk up the drive the little yelps of the puppies spill out of the open windows. Excitement floods him immediately and he bounces on his toes as Kate rings the doorbell, shoves his hands in his pockets and then takes them back out again.

The front door pulls open and then the screen door as well and a man close in age to Kate's father greets them warmly, pulls Beckett in to a hug. "Katie Beckett. Look at you all grown up. Come in girl, come on in."

"It's so good to see you, Mr Johnson," Kate is saying warmly, stepping inside the house and reaching back for Rick's hand, tugging until he comes to stand at her side. "Rick and I saw the sign at the grocery store about the puppies and we just had to stop by."

Mr Johnson laughs loudly, warm and joyful, and the creases around his eyes deepen. "Feels like nobody stops by to see me these days. Everybody's only interested in those little rascals."

"We're here to see you too, don't worry. And to ask after Tilly."

"Well she should be home in a few minutes, honey, so you can ask her yourself," he grins, squeezing Kate's free hand before he heads towards a door off the hall, gesturing for them to follow. "Let me get you guys a drink. I just whipped up some of my cloudy lemonade."

At Rick's side, Kate gasps and grins widely, glancing up at him as they follow her friend into the kitchen. "Mr Johnson makes the best lemonade. Tilly and I used to go through multiple jugs a day."

"Please, Katie," he sighs, reaching into the refrigerator for the jug and collecting three glasses from the cabinet, pouring for each of them. "You're old enough now to call me Ralph, don't you think?"

"Right," she flushes, ducking her head, and Castle has to let go of Kate to take both of their drinks. He passes hers over once she meets his eyes and he takes a sip of his own lemonade, humming his appreciation for the tart burst of flavour. Next to him, Kate's eyes flutter closed at the taste and she smiles. "Just as good as I remembered."

The door opens and a voice calls out, the words rich with a smile. "Pop, I'm home. You here?"

"In the kitchen, Till," Ralph calls out, fetching another glass from the cabinet to pour some lemonade for his daughter. The kitchen door swings open and Tilly squeals, wrapping Kate up in a hug that brings her right off the ground.

She's tall, probably taller than Rick, and with her hair allowed to curl naturally in a tight halo around her head she's commanding, statuesque and vivacious. Not somebody he'd ever imagine Kate hanging out with, especially as a teenager.

"Katie, what are you doing here girl? Why didn't you tell me you were coming to town?" Tilly is saying, holding Kate at arm's length with a hand wrapped around each of her biceps.

Laughing, his partner shakes her head and brings her own hands up to cover her friend's, peeling them off her arms but not letting go. "I had no idea you'd be around. Castle and I are staying at the cabin for a bit, and we saw the sign in the grocery store about the puppies and thought we'd drop in on your dad."

"Castle, huh?"

"Rick Castle," he introduces himself, holding out a hand for Tilly to shake. She pulls him into a hug instead, squeezing hard enough that his breath escapes him in a big huff.

"Oh honey I know who you are," she laughs, shaking her head in amusement. "Katie's daddy told us all about you."

He huffs, lifting an eyebrow at Kate and stifling his amusement at the flush in her cheeks, the pale column of her neck rapidly pinking up. "Has your father told everybody in town about me?"

"Probably," she rolls her eyes, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter. "Everybody always asks him if I'm dating anyone, and I think this last year his answer has been 'no, but. . .'"

"Did you guys see the babies yet?" Tilly cuts in, her eyes shifting slowly between them.

Her father puts the jug of lemonade away in the refrigerator and collects the empty glasses from Rick and his partner, hands Tilly a freshly poured one. "I didn't take them back yet. We were waiting on you."

"I'm here now," she grins, leading the way back into the hall and through another door. There's a pen on the floor with six puppies running around inside, each one wearing a different coloured collar. An adult collie lays stretched out across a pillow, her eyes flicking back and forth to keep watch over her babies, and Tilly leans down to scratch the dog's head. "She got in with the Ryersons' German shepherd and here we are."

"Can I hold one?" Kate breathes, and Ralph reaches down into the pen and scoops up one of the puppies, hands it over to Beckett.

She cradles the little thing in both arms, scratching behind her ears and she gets a lick to the end of her nose in gratitude, the puppy nuzzling at her. Ralph laughs, claps Castle on the shoulder, and he realises he's been staring at Kate like he's moon-drunk.

"That's the runt. She's a sweet little thing, doing well."

"She's gorgeous," Kate breathes, pressing a kiss to the furry little head. Her eyes come up to meet his and she beams, mouth parting, but remains silent with awe. The puppy seems rather smitten with Kate as well, burrowing in close to her chest and making these cute little squeaking sounds of contentment.

"Why don't you sit down with her, Katie?" Tilly says, gesturing towards the couch. Kate goes, curling her legs underneath herself and letting the puppy get comfortable in her lap. The little one rolls onto her back, legs in the air and Kate laughs, scratches her chubby belly. "Do you wanna hold one too, Rick?"

He grins, nodding vigorously, and he takes the puppy that Ralph hands over to him. He's a squirmy little thing, wriggling almost out of his grip, and Castle hurries to sit next to Kate on the couch so he doesn't drop the dog.

The two siblings sniff at each other, but the puppy Kate is holding seems far more interested in snuggling up to Beckett than she does playing with her brother. Castle's puppy whines and yelps, covering his nose with his paws, but after a moment he seems to accept that his sister isn't about to pay him any attention and he busies himself with chewing Castle's hand instead.

"So, you two thinking about getting a dog?" Tilly asks, sitting cross legged on the floor with the puppies' mother curled up in her lap, tongue lolling in contentment.

"Yes," Rick says, right as Kate gives the exact opposite answer, and they turn to look at one another. "When we caught that case with Royal you said you'd been thinking about getting a dog."

Kate sighs, and the puppy in her arms startles and lifts her head, grumbling until Kate appeases her with the stroke of her hand down the dog's back. "Yeah, and that case made me see that my lifestyle isn't compatible with a dog."

"What are you talking about? We made great dog parents."

Kate's thumb smoothes along the silky ear of the puppy and she gazes wistfully at the adorable little thing, a furrow creasing up her brow. "Castle, we can't be carting a dog back and forth between us all the time. It needs a stable, steady home."

"So move in with me," he shrugs, tugging his hand away from the needle-sharp teeth of the dog he's cuddling. She gasps, and he hears the little noise that Tilly makes as well, and only then does he realise what he's said. "I mean. . .someday. Not immediately. But if we live together then we don't have to shuttle our dog between two homes."

Tilly shifts the dog out of her lap and stands, hooking her arm through her father's and pulling him out of the room with her, closing the door behind them. Kate's eyes are firmly on the puppy in her arms, her fingers scratching at a spot between the shoulder blades that has the dog almost purring. "Is that what you see for us?"

"Living together? I. . .I hope so, yes. I'm confident that we'll get to that point."

"I hope so too," she murmurs, finally lifting her head to smile at him and he kisses her, can't help himself. The puppy in his lap growls at the sudden cessation of his hands at the dog's belly, but he's too caught up in Kate, his world collapsed down until it's just her, just her and the gentle press of their mouths. When they pull apart she huffs a breath of laughter and touches two fingers to her lips, turns towards the closed door. "You guys can come back in now."

The door swings slowly open and Tilly comes back inside, sinking to sit in the armchair opposite the couch and grinning at them both. "Mrs Poole from next door came to request Pop's assistance, but I'm not allowed to let you leave without saying goodbye."

"How is he?" Kate asks, the puppy now cradled in the crook of her arm and blinking drowsily, one paw held aloft and twitching every now and then.

"He's doing good. I think he was lonely, though. That's why I moved back."

Kate hums at that, stills her hand to leave it curved over the puppy's round little belly. Castle watches the two women speak together, always fascinated to meet people that knew a younger Beckett, and he does his best to keep the puppy in his lap distracted with the dance of his fingers. "When did you come home?"

"Just after Christmas. I lost my job and Dad told me to come home, that I could stay as long as I needed. And I realised he wanted me here, that he didn't want to be on his own anymore."

"I'm glad you have each other," Kate says quietly, managing something close to a smile.

Castle stands with the puppy and sets him gently back in the pen with his siblings, comes back to lean down and brush a kiss to Kate's cheek. "I'm going to go and see if Mr Johnson needs any help. Give you two a chance to catch up properly."

"That's good of you honey," Tilly smiles at him. "Mrs Poole is just next door. The gate's open so go right on through to the yard."

"Alright," he nods, glancing at Kate again to make sure she doesn't mind. She smiles at him, squeezes his hand, and he doesn't miss the gratitude that softens her eyes. From the sound of things, Kate and Tilly haven't really spoken since her mother was murdered, and he knows how valuable it is for her to have a friend who really understands. "I'll be right next door."

He leans down, dusts a kiss to the crown of his partner's head and then he leaves, closing the living room door softly behind himself. As much as he loves her, as much as he tries to be there for her in any way he can, he isn't always what she needs. Sometimes he just has to make himself scarce and let somebody better qualified take over.

* * *

All the way home, she's quiet. Drained, if she's being honest. Kate shared as much with her childhood friend as she could while still ensuring Tilly's safety, and she does feel better for it. Castle understands the case, how important it is to solve it, but he doesn't understand the paralytic depth of her loss. And that's good, she's so grateful that he's been spared that kind of hurt. She would never wish for him to know, but it is good to share with somebody who does.

"Are you okay?" he says when they make it back to the house, right as she's bending down to untie her sneakers. She sucks a trembling breath through her teeth and finishes up, goes right ahead and pulls off her socks as well. Bare feet, and her toes look funny and too pale against the floor.

It makes her eyes water and she swipes at them, catches drop after drop on the ends of her fingers. Lifting her head to see him, Kate waits for the trembling of her lower lip to subside just a little before she speaks. "My mom and I had the same toes."

"Oh, Kate," he breathes and a sob bursts out her, has his arms coming around her immediately. Kate buries her face against his chest, but even the so-familiar smell of him and the soothing rock of their bodies isn't enough to stitch together the gaping chasm of grief inside.

He walks them towards the couch, guides them in a controlled descent until she's somehow curled up in his lap, her tears coming against his neck now. She shudders, a hand fisting in the material of his shirt, and she closes her eyes and counts her breaths, the way Doctor Burke taught her to do when she felt like she was spiralling. Eventually, her breathing evens out and she sags in Castle's arms, sniffling. "I'm wetting you."

"I don't care," he murmurs, fingers carding through her hair over and over. His chest is warm and solid under her and she blows a long stream of air that shudders in her throat, peels her eyes open. Her skin feels too tight, salted and stretched like a death mask, and her mouth a vivid, ugly slash. "How was your talk with Tilly?"

"Good. It was good to speak to someone who understands. And she said the things I needed to hear."

His mouth comes to her forehead in a gentle kiss and stays there, one hand cradling the back of her skull and the other drifting up and down her spine, fingers digging in every time their sweep brings them to the muscles at the top of her shoulders that are gnarled with tension. "I'm glad that it helped. I fixed a fence today."

"I missed seeing your handyman skills in action? Damn," she manages a breath of watery laughter, but strangely enough she does feel better now, lighter. She's never been a big crier, never found it cathartic the way other people seem to, but it's different when she doesn't have to pick herself up afterwards.

If she asks him to, Castle will fix her some lunch and curl up on the couch with her under a blanket to watch a movie. She's never had that before, and Kate uses the hand braced at his chest to lift herself, seeking his mouth. He kisses her back, fingers sliding underneath her shirt now, and she lets herself fall right in to it.

This is what her mother would want. For Kate to be happy, loving somebody with everything she has, not chasing leads that reveal ghouls at every turning. "Castle? Thank you."

"Of course," he whispers, stroking his thumbs along her cheekbones. It takes her a moment, and then she realises that he's smoothing away the tracks of her tears and she fumbles for his hand, cradles it against her chest. His eyes hold hers and he smiles, darts in to press another kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Anything you need, Kate. Just say the word."

"You know the same goes for you too, right?" she murmurs, suddenly desperate to make sure he knows. She's never really been a caretaker, never had the patience or the inclination to be leaned on, but with Castle she actually wants it. Him to come to her when he's hurting, rely on her to comfort him.

"I know," he nods, shifting them both until they're laying down on the couch together, their legs tangled. "What do you need? Do you want to just lay here for a bit?"

Kate bites her lip and rolls onto her side, reaches for his hand and uses that grip to draw his arm around her waist, snuggling into him. "Yeah. Will you tell me a story? A happy one."

"How about the story of the day I realised I was in love with you?"

"Okay," she breathes, closing her eyes and shifting to get a little closer, her nose at his throat now. "Tell me that one."


	12. Chapter 12

**Living is Easy**

* * *

"It was the case we worked with the magician, you remember? In January last year," he says, arranging the ends of her hair over her shoulders. He's got one arm under her and it's rapidly descending into numbness, static starting at the tips of his fingers and travelling up towards his shoulder. His partner is comfortable though, her eyes closed and her breathing finally evened out, so he'll happily sacrifice his arm if it keeps her that way.

She sniffles and fists a hand in the material of his shirt, her nod making her nose bump against the ball of his shoulder. "I remember. You broke up with Gina during that case."

"Should have done it a lot sooner," he mutters, dusting a kiss to her forehead. Every time she brings up one of his exes he's reminded all over again how much better this is with her, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Anyway. I already knew that I, uh. . .that I felt very seriously about you. That it had gone past being just curiosity and a healthy dose of lust. But I was too stubborn to admit to myself that I had fallen in love with you."

That makes her laugh and her eyes come slowly open, still shot through with spidery lines of vivid red, but not quite so grief-darkened anymore. Kate shifts to roll onto her stomach next to him and he takes the opportunity to rescue his arm, folds it against his chest as his partner props her chin in her hands to look at him. She's smirking, but her face is soft with tenderness and she reaches for him, cards a hand through his hair.

"It was the same for me. Wasn't it only a week or so after that case that everything went down with Raglan? You were somebody I trusted by then, the only person I trusted, really, but I still couldn't accept that I cared about you beyond just friendship or even partners."

"We were both pretty stubborn," he laughs, shaking his head at his own foolish self.

Kate smiles and her hand slips down to settle at the collar of his shirt, her fingers curling into the material. "What was it that made you realise?"

"We were doing that thing we do," he grins, settling a palm between her shoulder blades. "Figuring out that the pilot wasn't really in the plane and they'd switched him out for a dummy. Earlier that day I'd told my mother that Gina was ordinary and I wanted magic, and then there we were finishing each other's sentences and I looked at you and I thought, this is the person I'm supposed to be with."

Kate dips her head, her lips peeling apart around a grin that's so wide, so lovely, showing all her teeth. "Really? That was the moment?"

"Yeah," he says, touches two fingertips to her chin until she raises her head to see him. "Because that was just an ordinary day for us, solving a case together, and it was a hundred times more magical than the best moments I had with Gina."

"And then you broke up with her," Kate says quietly, laying back down to curl up at his side, her palm splayed over his heart. "You know, I overheard."

He smiles, even though she can't even see the arc of his amusement from the angle she's at, and he kisses the crown of her head. "I know. You gave me magic flowers and took me out for comfort food; I assumed you must have either heard or just figured it out with your superior detective skills."

"I hated seeing you like that, Castle. And I hated myself too, because for a moment, when I heard you say that it was over, I was so happy. For just a second, I let myself believe that it meant we could have a chance, and then I remembered that I had Josh."

"Oh, Kate," he sighs, tightening his arm around her and bringing his other hand up to tangle his fingers with hers. "We were both pretty messed up back then."

A bitter laugh escapes her and she squeezes until his knuckles pop into greyscale, blanching rapidly. "Yeah, we were. I knew something was going on with you when we watched that video. You were looking at me like you'd never seen me before. I just didn't know that you were. . ."

"Realising I was hopelessly in love with you and you were the only person I could ever truly be happy with?" he finishes and she blushes, burying her face against his chest so that he's only just able to hear her murmured agreement.

They're quiet for a while, each of them mulling over that period of their lives, all of the hurt they both suffered. Kate stretches, the length of her body extending and her toes brushing the tops of his feet, scratching a little. "I'm so glad we're doing this."

"Me too," he murmurs, tries not to clutch at her too tightly. For a long time, months that rolled on into almost a full year, he worried that they'd never get their shot. That he'd have to sit quietly in his chair beside her desk and watch her marry Josh. So having her here now makes him a little desperate sometimes, makes him want to hold on tight just in case she tries to leave.

Rationally, he knows that she won't. That she's in this, and even though she hasn't actually said it yet, that she loves him too. But he's been abandoned before, and sometimes the depth of his adoration for her terrifies him.

"What do you wanna do this afternoon?" he asks, to distract himself from the sucking tide of fear. He's being an idiot, but lucky for him just spending time with Kate is always enough to ensure himself that she's not going anywhere.

She hums, playing with the hem of his shirt now, and she torques her neck at an awkward angle to see him. "Well, we need to go back to town and get groceries. And then let's do something fun. We could go up to the waterfall if you want?"

"And jump in?" he gulps, a shudder rippling through him.

Kate's laughter makes him smile in spite of himself and she struggles into a sitting position, pushes on his chest to get herself upright. Her legs drape over his thighs, her butt squishes between his body and the back of the couch, and she drums her heels against the side of the sofa. "Sure, if it's deep enough. You don't have to though. Not if you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," he growls, bouncing his legs to jostle her. "I just don't want to slice my side open."

"We'll be careful. Make sure to check the water level," she promises, laying her palm over his knee and circling her thumb. He pulls his legs out from under her and sits up, wrapping his arm around her shoulders instead and settling his mouth against her temple, leaving a small scatter of kisses there.

"Alright. But first, lunch."

* * *

After they ate, toasted sandwiches Castle cooked out on the grill, they drove back into town and picked up the groceries they needed. Kate left him to get the things on the list and wandered down the beauty aisle of the little store. This was where she bought her first makeup, the summer she was twelve. Tilly was already wearing it and it seemed so glamorous, so exciting that Kate immediately went out and bought her own, spent an entire day figuring out eyeliner and blush and lipstick.

Looking back now, at photographs of that day, she looked utterly ridiculous, clownlike. But she felt like a grown up, and when her mother came to pick her up from Tilly's place and saw the thick layer of too-bright everything on her face, she had sat her down in the bathroom at the cabin and taught her how to apply all of her new products correctly.

The selection the store carries is pretty minimal, but she managed to find a nail polish in a striking red that appealed to her because it was so completely not something she would normally choose. She hid the bottle from her partner, paid for it separately, and just picturing the look on his face when he sees her nails are suddenly shiny and red has her covering her mouth with her hand, grin curving against her palm.

"What's funny?" he calls from the kitchen, where he's putting away the last of the groceries. Kate sits at the counter, one leg crossed over the other, and watches him potter around. He wouldn't let her help, ushered her away when she tried, and it gave her a good excuse to stash her secret purchase safe in her bedroom.

Kate forces herself to stop grinning, frowning slightly at him instead, and when he puts the last of their groceries away and comes to lean over the counter she arches her neck and brushes a kiss to his mouth. "Nothing. You're cute."

"I'm _cute_?" he snorts, both forearms resting against the surface of the kitchen island. His face is so close to hers that she feels the wash of his breath against her cheek, can smell the sunscreen he reapplies every couple of hours and insists she does too.

"Yeah," she shrugs, arranging the flop of his hair over his forehead and sliding her hand down, touching her thumb to the corner of his mouth. "You really love being domestic, don't you?"

That makes him blush and he comes around the island to settle onto the stool next to hers, his back to the edge of the counter so that he faces the opposite direction. He reaches for her, lacing their fingers and circling his thumb across the back of her hand, and a timid smile blossoms at one corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I do. I always wanted to settle down, I just never could figure out how. Where I was going wrong."

"Hey," she says, dragging her chair closer to his until she can wrap her arm around his shoulders. His head rests against her chest and she palms the curve of his skull to keep him there, her mouth forming a kiss against his crown. "You didn't do anything wrong, Castle. You just. . .weren't with the right person."

She won't say that he is now, won't risk the possibility of jinxing this, but she knows he hears the sentiment in the silence. They're heading towards that - she is the person he's always supposed to have been with - but neither of them has the courage to say it out loud just yet.

"Did you want to go to the waterfall now?" he asks after a moment, straightening up again and turning a smile towards her. It flickers a little; he's nervous about jumping off, and she almost regrets telling him about the time she sliced herself open.

"Sure. Let me just put a swimsuit on and find a towel."

Kate slides down from the barstool and reaches for his hand, leads him to her bedroom. They change into swimsuits, getting thoroughly distracted in the process, and when Kate pulls her shorts and t-shirt back on over the top of her suit her legs are trembling, her mouth smudged and swollen.

They collect towels and bottles of water and head outside, picking their way along the trail that cuts through the woods. He chatters beside her, reminiscing about some of their old cases and she hums her agreement in all of the right places, turns her face towards his and smiles widely every so often. It's not that she isn't listening; she's always interested in what he has to say. It's just that something about the woods makes her want to be silent and still, take in the flux of life that wells up here under the canopy, the trees stretching crooked fingers over their heads.

"It's just up here," she says after a half hour of walking, and he falls silent. Her calves are humming with the uphill climb that winds through the forest and she wipes her palm against the back of her neck and grimaces, swipes it against the fabric of her shorts.

It's hot, uncomfortably so even in the shade of the trees, and the sound of the water gurgling as it tumbles over the edge of the falls makes her grin widely and reach for his hand, breaking out into a jog. They burst through the foliage and emerge next to the stream, the waterfall only a few yards down from where they are but completely invisible at this angle.

"Is the water cold?" he asks and Kate moves a little further downstream and kneels down at the bank, gestures for him to join her. He does, grunting as his knees meet the dirt and she flicks the water up into his face, a burst of laughter escaping her at his affronted growl. "It's actually not that bad."

"It'll be nice. Refreshing," she grins, splashing a little of the cool, clear water against her wrists. One year she waded all the way upstream with her father until they got to the source, and she had been amazed at how the water stayed so pure all the way along the length of the stream that cuts through the woods, the pebbles and stones that litter the bed clearly visible even when it gets to be several feet deep.

A pool forms just before the lip of the cliff edge, the water swirling and frothing, and Kate touches three fingers to her partner's wrist. "Be careful you don't get sucked over the edge. Jump from that rock, you see it?"

"The flat one?" he asks, pointing towards the large, smooth stone. It's a perfect, natural diving board and Kate nods, uses her grip on his arm to push herself to her feet.

"That's the one. We need to check the landing pool, make sure it's safe."

Her partner gets to his feet, brushing the dirt off his knees, and peeks over the edge of the waterfall, swallowing hard. "How do we get down there to check?"

"This way," she grins, hooking her arm through his and leading him with her back into the thicket of trees. Another path runs parallel to the stream, a few metres away, and it leads them down to the bottom of the waterfall, the incline far less dramatic than the falls itself.

Kate peels out of her clothes and folds them carefully, leaves them in a neat pile far enough away from the water that they won't get splashed when she lands. Her shoes come off next and in one motion she turns and jumps in to the landing pool below the falls. Diving right down to the bottom she has to kick hard, a few feet of clear water above her and when she comes back up she grins, climbs back out of the pool. "It's plenty deep enough."

Reaching for her towel, Kate dries her feet and pulls her socks and her sneakers back on; she'll take them off at the top and throw them down so she doesn't have to track barefoot through the underbrush. At her side, her partner has pulled his own shirt off over his head and set it down next to hers, but she sees that behind the casual facade, the way he folds his arms in something close to nonchalance, he's trembling.

Kate slides her arms around his waist, the wet material of her swimsuit clinging to his stomach and sending a shiver rattling through him. Her mouth settles at the dip between his clavicles, a kiss and then the dart of her tongue, and his hands splay at her shoulder blades.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she murmurs, leaning back in the circle of his arms to see his face. He's pale, his mouth set in a grim line, but he nods at her and swallows hard.

"Yes. Just nervous."

She smiles, stretching up on tiptoe to palm his cheek and kiss his mouth, her teeth nibbling gently at his lower lip. His hips rock shallowly into hers and he sighs, his lashes brushing her cheek when his eyes come open again. Kate steps back from their embrace and regards him, how handsome he looks with the dappled light laying over him. "Do you want to go first, or shall I go first?"

"I'll go first," he says and she smiles, so proud of his determination that it makes her silly. "Otherwise I'll be all alone at the top. I'm probably gonna need you to push me."

Kate laughs, shaking her head, and reaches for his hand to lead them back to the path that cuts up towards the top of the waterfall. "I'm not going to push you. But I can give you words of encouragement."

They make it to the top and Kate pulls off her sneakers, tying the laces together and balling her socks up inside, stuffed right down into the toes. Standing at the edge of the falls, she drops her shoes over the edge, lands them within a foot of her pile of clothes. Kate crows with delight and wheels around to face her partner, grinning so wide that her cheeks ache with it.

He's smiling too, his face flushed with pride and she holds out a hand, arching an eyebrow at him. "You want me to do yours?"

"Sure," he laughs, handing his shoes over to her and she tosses them over the edge as well, bounces on her toes when they land right next to her own sneakers. Castle comes up behind her and wraps his arm around her waist, his mouth open at her neck and sucking gently at her pulse. "Hey. In case I die-"

"You're not going to die," she growls, turning in his grip and laying both her palms flat against his chest, frowning at him.

He smirks, leans in to steal a kiss from her. "But just in case. I love you."

"Oh jeez. So dramatic," she groans, dropping her forehead against his shoulder, keeping her smile to herself. She takes a moment to rest against the solid mass of his body, tracing patterns into the skin of his side and then she straightens again, steps back from him. "Jump right from the edge, otherwise you'll scrape yourself on the rock. And don't forget to hold your breath. I'll see you at the bottom."

"Oh god," he whispers, edging closer to the edge of the waterfall. Her partner peers down to the bottom and curses under his breath, turning back over his shoulder to look at her. She smiles in reassurance, tips her head in a single nod, and she watches as his shoulders sink and he relaxes. He takes another breath, exhales in a steady stream, and then Castle takes a stride forward and leaps over the edge.

* * *

As his feet leave the safety of actual solid ground, paralytic fear clutches hold of him and he yelps, the sound cut off in a strangled gasp as all of the air rushes to vacate his lungs. And then he's falling, falling, and exhilaration buoys him so that the descent lasts millennia. He doesn't even need to remember to hold his breath; his entire body is emptied out with awe.

At the last second it occurs to him to straighten his arms over his head and his hands break the water first, the shock of the cold making his eyes fly open, a desperate gasp escaping him the moment he comes up for air. Kate is standing at the top of the falls, grinning widely at him and she clasps her hands, presses them against her chest.

"You okay?" she calls down to him and he gives her a thumbs up before he turns and swims towards the back of the landing pool, well out of Kate's way.

When she dives her body stretches out into a lovely, toned arc and she cuts through the air seamlessly, hardly a ripple around her. He's sure he flailed like a moron, probably looked like an octopus dropped from a great height, but Beckett is graceful in this as in everything else. She stays under a long time once she hits the water, long enough that he heads closer to the waterfall itself, as near as he can get with his feet still touching the bottom. He's just about to dive down and look for her when she bursts up right in front of him, grinning widely and wiping the little strands of hair out of her eyes.

"That was so awesome!" he beams at her and she laughs, two strokes slicing through the water that bring her to him. Her arms wrap around his neck and then her legs come up, bent knees at his hipbones and her mouth meeting his, her lips cold but her tongue warm and slick.

Her kiss is directionless, meandering slowly from heated to tender and back again, and when she pulls away from his mouth she lays her head at his shoulder. "You liked it?"

"Uh, _yeah_ ," he grins, spreading his palms wide at her ass just in case she starts to float away from him. She always looks so pleased whenever she surprises him by revealing a facet of herself or coming up with some amazing activity for them to do, and her eyes flick away from his as if she can't quite manage to let him see all of her joy at once. He bounces on his toes, enjoying the weightlessness of the water, and when she turns her head to see him again he makes his eyebrows dance. "Can we go again?"

"Sure," she laughs, untangling herself from around him and heading for the bank, pushing herself up out of the water. Kate sits to dry her feet and pull her shoes back on, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and see him when he climbs out of the pool to join her. "Should have brought flip flops to go up and down in."

"Is that what you usually do?"

Kate shrugs and gets to her feet, her sneakers laced again. Reaching for the bottle of water next to her clothes, she takes a sip and wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. "I usually only jump once."

"Really?" he asks, sinking down to sit and pull his own socks and shoes on. Kate stays close, her fingers dusting back and forth along the top of his shoulder, and it takes him a couple of tries to finally get his laces properly fastened.

"Yeah. I could never be bothered to keep going up and down. And when there wasn't anybody to share it with, it wasn't so exciting after the first jump."

Frowning, he gets to his feet and reaches for her hand, her skin still cool to the touch from the shock of the water. It's a lot colder than the lake, because the water is in constant motion and so the sun can't soak through, and now he's thinking of a younger Kate wrapping her towel a little tighter around herself and letting her smile slide down her face. "You ever bring Tilly here?"

"I offered," she laughs, leading him back towards the path again. "But she's terrified of heights. Refused to even come and watch me jump."

He doesn't say anything to that, can't figure out anything to say that won't sound like he pities her. At the top of the waterfall he kisses her softly, and this time he gets to watch from the top as she leaps over the edge and slides cleanly into the water below, barely a ripple to even suggest she was ever there at all.

They jump twice more and then they drag themselves exhausted back to the cabin, towels wrapped tight around each of their shoulders and his legs turned liquid, threatening to dissolve under him completely. He had no idea how much the adrenaline would wear him out, but when they finally make it back he sprawls on the couch with Kate's damp body plastered on top of him and he groans, finds the strength to lift an arm not entirely attached to the rest of him and let it crash down to lay over her.

When he wakes up he's surprised by his own self, that he was sleeping at all, and even more astounded to find that Kate is still mostly on top of him and still napping hard. His body aches with the dead weight of her but he doesn't dare move, even though their swimsuits are getting a little funky with the lake water being allowed to dry into them.

They need to shower, throw their suits into the washer. Actually, he could probably do with throwing some of his clothes in there too; this morning when he got dressed he was a little alarmed by the sparsity of his drawer in the dresser. He gives her five more minutes of uninterruption and then he eases her off him as slowly as his trembling muscles will allow, laying her down on the couch cushion instead of her Castle-cushion.

She snuffles, rubs her nose against the fabric of the seat, but her eyes don't come open and he stoops to kiss her cheek before he heads for her bedroom. Rick pulls everything out of the drawer they've been using as a sort of laundry basket, dumps it all on the floor. He peels out of his swimming trunks and adds them to the pile, pulls on a fresh pair of pajama pants from the drawer and pads as quietly as he can across the living room and through to her parents' bedroom, to collect the pajamas he wore last night and add them to the laundry pile.

Once he's done, he heads back out to the living area and kneels down next to the couch, skims his fingers along her cheekbone and hums her name. Her lashes peel slowly apart and her eyes roam his face for a moment before they still, coming to rest at his mouth. Her smile blooms next and she wriggles as if to awaken her slumbering muscles, lifts a hand to anchor it against his cheek.

"Castle. Hi," she murmurs, her smile growing even wider so that her lips peel back. "I fell asleep?"

"You did. Right on top of me. But I was asleep too," he grins, shifting back when she pushes herself into a sitting position. She doesn't like to be crowded when she's just waking up from a nap, needs a few minutes to wade through the jarring sensation of cotton mouth and lost time.

His partner pats the couch cushion next to her and he gets up and sinks to sit beside her instead, leaving his hand between them and smiling to himself when she takes it, nudges her fingers to tangle with his. "You changed."

"Yeah. I was gonna throw everything in the washer. Need your suit."

"Oh," she laughs, plucking at the material of her bathing suit to hold it away from her stomach for a moment before she lets it snap back into place. "Right. It's gross. You know, you could have just taken it off me, let me carry on sleeping. Not like you haven't seen. . .everything."

He raises an eyebrow at her, nudges his elbow into her side to jostle her. "My taking your clothes off definitely would have woken you anyway, and I don't want to look at you naked unless I have your express permission."

"Such a gentleman," she smiles, framing his face in her hands and leaning in, kissing him softly. She doesn't linger, but he's okay with that too. Sometimes the briefness of their kiss - the certainty that there will be more later - is almost nicer than the long, slow sessions that leave him stumbling and foolish. "But I'm giving you permission right now. I have no problem with you looking at me naked, or even taking my clothes off. Because I know you'd never abuse that trust."

A nod is all he can manage, his throat thick with gratitude, and Kate brushes another kiss to his lips before she stands up from the couch and peels off her bathing suit in one fluid motion, lets it dangle on the end of her finger right in front of his face. He takes it from her and follows her to the bedroom, collects the rest of the laundry and takes it back out to the kitchen while she gets dressed.

She comes back in pajama shorts and a tank top, one hand behind her back and her hair in a braid again, laying over one shoulder. "Shall I make dinner?"

It's an offer she's hoping he'll decline, he can tell by the way she can't quite look at him, so he shrugs and tugs open the refrigerator, drums two fingers against his chin. "Nah, I got it."

He earns himself a kiss against his cheek for that and then she disappears towards the living area and he rummages through the cabinets, searching for inspiration. Eventually he settles on a stir fry, slices vegetables into strips and tosses them in the wok with the egg noodles he bought today and a sauce he mostly concocts through guess work and a whole lot of creativity.

When he dishes up their meal and hands her bowl over to her he gasps and almost drops his own dinner on the floor, sets the dish down at the counter top instead so he can reach for her hand, eyes flicking from her fingers to her face and back. "You painted your nails. That's why you were being all sneaky?"

"Yeah," she laughs, splaying her fingers to let him inspect the polish. It's good, neat and professional looking, and he wonders if that's something Kate and his daughter might do together. When he actually tells his family about his dating Beckett, of course. "I wanted to surprise you."

"You definitely succeeded," he grins, nudging her to sit at the kitchen island and sinking on to the barstool next to hers, reaching for his bowl. "I've never known you to paint them such a vibrant colour."

"I don't, normally. It's not the sort of thing that looks professional at the precinct, so if I ever do get a manicure I have to choose a neutral colour."

He nods, chewing on a mouthful of peppers. The sauce is pretty damn good, and he tries not to gloat when Kate hums her satisfaction at the taste. "Well, I think it's lovely either way, but I do like the red. Almost reminds me of Mistress Venom."

" _Really_?" she snorts, pointing her fork at him and he shrinks backward. And then she sets it down and parts her lips, propping an elbow on the countertop and leaning in close to him, her voice suddenly husky and narcotic, one perfect red nail coming to rest against the jump of his pulse in his neck. "What are you saying, Ricky? You like to be submissive?"

For half a second, he debates playing along, and then he straightens up and leans in to her space, gets his mouth at her ear so she can feel the rough scrape of his stubble. "I do like it, Beckett. But I think I prefer it when we're equals."


	13. Chapter 13

**Living is Easy**

* * *

It's Sunday morning, so he sleeps in. Kate tries to get up, and he lets her get as far as tugging his shirt from yesterday over her head, but when she comes around to dust a kiss to his cheek he circles her wrist in his fingers and tugs, pulls her right down on top of him.

A grunt tumbles out of her and he grins, struggles to pull the sheets free from where they've gotten trapped between their bodies and arrange them over her instead. He rolls her to the side, lays her down on the mattress but keeps his arms still tight around her and his mouth resting close to her ear.

"Don't get up. Stay in bed. Sunday, Beckett."

"Okay," she laughs, nudging a knee to rest between his and fisting her hands in the sheets, dragging them up around her head. A kiss forms against his throat and she sighs, relaxing into his embrace. Now that he's sure she won't go anywhere he allows himself to tumble right back into sleep, content with the warmth of her body next to him and the cold press of her toes to his shin.

When he comes awake again, for good this time, she's still in bed with him. The blinds are slatted open to let ribbons of daylight spill into the room, and Kate is sitting up against the headboard with a book resting against her bent knees. She closes it and leans over to set it on the nightstand before she lays back down and strokes her fingers through his hair, touches her thumb to the corner of his eye.

"Are you properly awake now?"

"Yeah," he clears his throat, so overwhelmed by waking up next to her that he can't even manage a smile, his face slack with awe. Her thumb circles at his temple, her other hand shifting underneath the sheets to rest at his bare stomach and he bands his arm around her, sliding her body closer to him. "What were you reading?"

She grins, snuggling in a little closer until her nose rests against the hollow of his throat and their hips kiss, her body fitting so neatly into the cradle of his. "It was _Frankenstein_ , actually."

"Oh," he murmurs, settling his chin at the crown of her head and splaying a hand low down at her spine, the ridges of her vertebrae digging into his palm. "You read it before?"

"I have. It just jumped out at me this morning."

Rick brushes a kiss to her forehead, still feeling drowsy and not quite here as if sleep has its fingers curled around his hand, just waiting to lead him back into dreaming. He won't go, and he wriggles his fingers low down at her lumbar curve to shake off the phantom touch. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven," she hums, rolling onto her back and trapping his hand beneath her body. He gets room to move when she arches her spine in an elegant stretch and he slides his arm out from under her, curls both of his up against his chest instead to watch her. Lashes so dark against the pale cream of her skin, Kate sighs and parts her lips, her eyes sliding open again and her head rolling to the side to see him. "I want to go on a real hike today."

"Okay," he says, rolling onto his back in echo of her and clasping his hands, resting them against his sternum. "A hike to where?"

Kate sits up in bed and folds her legs underneath herself, reaches out to curl her fingers around his arm. "The end of the trail. There's a post that marks it. We should take a picture there."

"Alright," he smiles, sliding out of bed. Kate is still wearing his t-shirt from yesterday, but he isn't wearing anything at all and he watches her eyes sink slowly more and more southwards, smirks at her when she finally lifts them to see his face again. "Should I get dressed, or would you rather I didn't?"

She rolls her eyes at him, but a flush appears high up at her cheeks and he laughs, planting both hands on the mattress to lean in and kiss her. The touch of her tongue to the corner of his mouth makes him growl and his knee comes up to prop against the bed as well, his body advancing towards hers. Her hands rest either side of his neck and she moans, breathing hard through her nose.

For a moment, he debates the merits of pulling away, showering and getting ready for their day, but then her teeth catch in his bottom lip and he grunts, climbing right up onto the bed and laying down in one smooth motion, his hands at her hips to ease her on top of him.

Afterwards, Kate is still pillowed against his chest, shirt rucked up around her waist and she sighs, tracing a thoroughly distracting line with her fingernail up and down his stomach. He shifts her off him as slowly as he can manage, pulling the sheets up to her waist and tucking her in.

"No," she laughs, wriggling her way out from under the covers and climbing out of bed, holding out her hand to him. "Let's both shower."

"I don't want to share a shower," he grumbles, but he takes her proffered hand and lets her tug him up to standing, follows her through to the bathroom. He nudges her into the shower stall ahead of him and slides the door halfway closed, shrugs at her. "It'll be faster if we go separately."

Kate frowns at him but she pulls the door the rest of the way closed and flicks on the water, lifting her hair away from her neck to let it get thoroughly soaked. For a little while, he allows himself to lean against the counter and watch her showering, her body a graceful and slender outline through the frosted glass. His stomach growls its discontent and he heads for the kitchen, stopping to pull on a fresh pair of underwear on the way. He makes a couple of slices of toast and sits at the kitchen island to eat them, listening to the thunder of the water and the groan of the tank as it empties.

When he hears the shower shut off he heads back to the bathroom, makes it in time to hold out a towel for her and gather her up into it, wrapping it tight around her shoulders. She stays, leaning against his chest for a moment, and then she straightens up, refastens the towel in a knot between her breasts. "Your turn."

"Yep," he says, but he doesn't move to actually get in the shower and she laughs, reaching between them to push his boxer shorts down his body before both hands settle at his chest to nudge him backwards. She is so mesmerising like this, droplets of water still clinging to her skin and her hair in a thick, dark rope over one shoulder. "M'going."

"Uh-huh. Sure," she smirks, her body crowding his until he has no choice but to step backwards into the shower stall. His partner slides the door closed and flutters her fingers at him in a wave, disappearing from the bathroom and leaving him to wash himself.

After he's done he wraps a towel around his waist and eyes himself critically in the mirror. His beard starts looking ridiculous when he lets it get any longer than this, so he rummages in the cabinet drawer for his electric razor and takes care of the situation, leaves a scattering of stubble over his jaw because he's noticed how it makes Kate's mouth linger there, her teeth scrape.

Rick dresses in shorts and a t-shirt, fishes his thick hiking socks out of the drawer but leaves them off for now to let his feet breathe. He scrubs the towel through his hair to dry it as much as he can, but he'll probably wear a hat today anyway so he doesn't worry too much about it. In the kitchen, he finds Kate with the provisions they'll need arranged neatly on the kitchen island.

"You shaved," she says when she turns to look at him, the corners of her mouth dragging down just a little. She's wearing khaki shorts and a tank top, her hair in a neat ponytail to keep it off her neck, and he slides his hands into her back pockets and draws her against him.

"I did. Don't want to start looking unkempt."

That makes her smile and she ducks her head, peering at him through the thicket of her lashes. He steals a soft kiss from her mouth and then lets her go, inspects the things laid out on the counter. There are sandwiches neatly sheathed in Saran wrap, energy bars and bottled water, as well as sunscreen and a tiny first aid kit.

"Wow. I get the feeling you've done this before."

"I have," she smiles, disappearing into the entryway for a moment to grab a backpack. When she returns she puts their provisions inside, the water bottles in the side pockets so they can access them easily, and when she's done he takes the bag from her and slings it across his shoulders, tightening the straps a little. Kate lifts up on the tips of her toes to kiss him, and then she heads for the hallway to put her shoes on.

He makes a detour to collect his socks from the bedroom and then he joins her to tug on his own hiking boots and lace them up tight. Rick shrugs his way out of the backpack and roots through it for the bottle of sunscreen, applies a generous amount to his bare skin before he hands the lotion over to his girlfriend. After she rubs it in everywhere she can reach, Kate spins to face away from him and holds up the bottle, turning her head to smile at him from over her shoulder.

"Would you do my back?"

"Sure," he says, taking the sunscreen from her and pouring a generous amount into his palms, rubbing them together before he begins working the lotion into the skin of her back and shoulders. After he finishes he leans forward and presses a kiss at the nape of her neck, right at her hairline where the sunscreen doesn't quite reach. "You're good."

She turns back around to see him and takes the bottle, snapping the lid closed and waiting for him to wipe the excess lotion from his hands onto his biceps and his neck before she hands it back again. "Thanks. Ready to go?"

"Yep," he nods, putting the sunscreen bottle away in the backpack and sliding it onto his back again. His baseball cap is hanging on a hook beside the door and he snags it and pulls it on, collects his sunglasses from the little catch-all shelf. He turns to see Kate, an easy smile tugging at his lips, and she lifts an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Nothing," she smirks, shaking her head at him and turning half away, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. He waits her out, and after a handful of seconds she turns back to look at him. "You're just kind of adorable."

Eyes glued to the floor, Kate shrugs her shoulders and pushes her hands down into the depths of her pockets, scuffing the toe of her boot against the doormat. He can't help but wrap his arms tight around her, drawing her in to his embrace, because he's never been with anybody before who hasn't made calling him cute an insult. From Meredith it meant _lacking spontaneity_ and from Gina that he was childish, but Kate says it with that soft smile and the faint hint of colour in her cheeks, finds his being sweet or boyish to be endearing.

"Hey Kate?" he whispers, and she steps out of the circle of his arms to see him. "I think you're pretty adorable too."

"Let's go," she says, rolling her eyes at him and holding open the front door of the cabin for him to step out onto the porch first before she locks it behind herself. She can snort and deny it all she likes, but the way she bounces down the steps only solidifies his opinion that his partner is the cutest human being alive.

* * *

Castle chatters away at her side as they walk, pointing out unusually shaped leaves and asking her more about the people they've met from her past, and she works to be better than yesterday, be an active participant in the conversation.

There were so many times last year when she just wanted to call him and chat about nothing, ask him how his evening had been, tell him about her own, talk about the weather or gossip about their colleagues. So having him here now, talking about nothing in particular, makes her foolish with gratitude. She never wants to be guilty of complacency when it comes to this between them, never wants to take his presence for granted.

"Are you hungry?" she asks him once he's finished his story about his first time pitching a tent, an hour or so into their hike. "Wanna stop for lunch?"

He shrugs, turning to smile at her, but with the hat and the sunglasses he's mostly in shadow. She can't help but wonder if he has to do that sometimes, go incognito when his fans get a little too crazy. Of course she teases - that's always been their thing - but she's visited his fansite, seen how intensely some of those women claim to love him.

It makes her smile to think about it now, how little those women really know him. Maybe it's foolish, but she's so proud that she gets to be the one to really understand who he is, share in his life. That she's the one who's lucky enough to get to love him.

"Are we stopping right here?"

"Sure," she nods, curling her fingers at the inside of his elbow to guide him over towards a log just off the trail. Not exactly the most comfortable dining experience, but it'll do and she kind of wants to take a little break, make out with him for a while before they get going again.

Castle shrugs his way out of the backpack and tugs open the zipper, rummaging inside to pass her the sandwiches and potato chips before he pulls their water bottles free of the mesh pockets on either side of the bag. "Here. Gotta keep hydrated, Beckett."

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head at him before she uncaps her water and gulps some of it down. Kate spares a little to pour over her wrists, rubbing them together and pressing them either side of her neck to help her cool off.

She undoes the Saran wrap from around the sandwiches and passes one over to her partner, takes a bite of the other. Now that she's stopped to think about it, she's starving, and she finishes her sandwich before her partner has even taken three bites of his.

"We could have stopped sooner, you know," he says, shifting to face her a little more and lowering the hand holding his sandwich to rest against his knee, frowning at her. "Why didn't you say something if you were that hungry?"

"I didn't realise I was," she laughs, folding the Saran wrap neatly and slotting it into the front pocket of the backpack to throw away once they get back to the cabin. She takes another drink of water and rips open one of the energy bars, breaking pieces off and popping them into her mouth one at a time while she watches her partner finish his sandwich.

Once he's done she hands him an energy bar and opens a packet of potato chips, rests the bag on the seat between them so that they can share. He's quiet for a little while, his silence contemplative, so she leaves him to arrange his thoughts and she watches the hum of the forest, the movement that goes unnoticed unless you're looking.

A squirrel scurries back and forth between two trees, rearing up on his hind legs when another approaches and arching his tail high in an unmistakeable display of dominance. Birds cry out for one another high above Kate's head and she picks up the bag of chips and slides along the log until her thigh presses against her partner's, head falling to rest against his shoulder.

"You okay?" he murmurs, one arm sliding around her shoulders as he reaches into the bag with his other hand, extracts a chip and pops it into his mouth. She feels the work of his jaw against the crown of her head as he chews and she smiles, curls her palm over hard slate of his kneecap.

"I love it here. So much. But I do love the city too. Whenever I have one, I desperately miss the other."

"Well," he starts, his hand smoothing up and down her bicep and his lips forming a shadow of a kiss at her hairline. "You can come back here whenever you want, Kate. It's your house, right?"

A sigh escapes her and she allows her eyes to slide closed, nuzzles her nose into the skin of his throat to catch the scent of sweat and the forest and the hint of sunscreen there. "I'm so busy with work. I only make it up here twice a year, and usually only for a couple of days."

"I know," he says gently, squeezing her upper arm before he pulls away just slightly, enough that he can see her face. "But I think that makes you appreciate it more when you are here. Didn't you say you started to go crazy when you were here after you got shot?"

"Yes, but that was because I was alone," she admits, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug and trying not to let the frown overtake her entire face. "It was just me and the crickets. I'm a private person, Castle, you know that, but I do need people. I want to be able to come here, but I want it to be with you. And Alexis and Martha and my dad. I want. . .I want to be here with family."

His hands come up either side of her, settling at her shoulders and he holds her still, studying her face for a long moment before he draws her in to him and kisses her, forehead and then the end of her nose before he finally meets her mouth. When he pulls away he smoothes his thumb along her bottom lip, his hand warm and a little clammy against the side of her neck.

"You can have that. Whenever you want. Just say the words and we'll all be here."

"Thank you," she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him again before she stands up from the bench and collects the backpack, slings it onto her shoulders. "My turn to carry this."

That makes him snort and he stands up as well, moves around behind her for a moment to put the rest of their trash in the bag before he comes back to stand in front of her, arms folded. "Sure, you carry it now that it's basically empty."

"Was it too heavy for you?" she simpers, batting her eyes at him and resting her hand against his bicep. "I thought you were my big, strong man."

"Gross, Beckett," he grunts, swatting her away from him and she laughs, her eyes sliding closed with full-bodied amusement. The real joy in her teasing is that he _is_ pretty broad, the swell of his arms thoroughly distracting, but he's never really seemed to acknowledge it.

She's not looking for a macho, bodybuilder type. Castle is gentle and sweet, her writer, and she slides her hand into his and squeezes, laces their fingers even though it isn't exactly comfortable, especially in this heat. "You ready to get going again?"

"Uh-huh," he nods, letting her go when she takes her hand back again and falling into step beside her along the trail. "How much further is it?"

"Depends how fast we walk," she laughs, turning to glance at him. Since he burned the other day she's been careful to check and see if he looks like he's been in the sun a little too long, but the hat and the amount of sunblock he put on both seem to be doing a good job of keeping him protected.

For a while, there's an easy silence between them, a quiet that doesn't extend to the forest around them and so never quite manages to grow awkward. Not that it ever does between them anyway; there were times in their first couple of weeks together when they spent hours just laying in bed together, studying the other and so overwhelmed with awe that words were distant and unreachable, the emotion of the moment transcending language itself.

"I was thinking we might ask Tilly to dinner," she says eventually, and her partner hums his agreement. "Maybe tomorrow or Tuesday, if she can make it."

"Sounds good. I liked her."

Kate smiles at that, nodding just a little, because of course he did. He seems to like pretty much everyone he comes across, manages to find the good in everybody. Even the Merediths and the Ginas of the world. Well, that's unkind; they've both been perfectly pleasant to Kate whenever she's spoken to them. "It was good to talk to her, but I want _you_ to talk to her. I want you guys to be friends."

"Sure," he says easily, moving in behind her to sidestep a fallen branch so that for a moment the heat of his body is at her back, sending a shiver of liquid yearning through her before he reappears at her side. "Do you want me to cook something special."

"We could do it together? A team effort."

A grin transforms his face and she watches from the corner of her eye as his lips peel back, his eyes scrunching almost closed with delight. "How very domestic of you."

"I kind of want to show her how good we are together. That's stupid, right?"

"Of course not," he says immediately, reaching for her and bringing them both to a halt. He's got both of her hands in his and he squeezes, his eyes intent on hers and so dark in the shadows of the woods that her breath catches in her throat. "We're great together, and she's somebody you care about. It makes sense that you want her to see how happy we make each other."

Kate ducks her head, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, but a smile unravels across her face regardless and she lifts her chin, lets him see it. He lets go of her hands, lifts one to cup her cheek instead and he echoes her grin, the two of them beaming at each other like love-drunk fools. At least only the woods are watching.

"I'll call her when we get back then. See if she's free. Should I invite her dad too?"

"I don't mind," he shrugs, taking a small step forward until he can brush a fleeting kiss to her lips and tug gently on the end of her ponytail. "Whatever feels right to you."

She lifts onto tiptoe to kiss him again, palms at his chest for balance, and then she drops back to flat feet and wheels around, sets off walking again at a brisker pace than before. He whines and stumbles to catch up, but she's smiling again and so is he and this is right. This place, of playfulness and gravity in lovely harmony, is where they've always been headed.

When they eventually break out of the thick cover of the forest the sun beats down hard onto their shoulders and she's glad to have her hair up off her neck, sweat making her feel clammy and disgusting. The post that marks the end of the trail is just up ahead though, and a new burst of energy overtakes her. Her pace picks up and Castle sighs next to her, but he matches her stride for stride, and she doesn't let them slow down until they make it to the very end of the trail, the top of the mountain.

"We did it," he crows, slapping his hand down on top of the post as if there's some invisible button there they have to press in order to truly finish their hike. She laughs, and then both of his arms wrap tight around her waist and he lifts her off the ground, spinning them both in a wide arc.

Her legs fly out and a peal of delighted laughter escapes her, arms tight around his neck. It is something of an overreaction, and she has no idea where he's gotten the energy from, but she doesn't mind feeling girlish and playful in his arms like this. When he eventually sets her down again she clings to him, smudging her mouth against his in a breathless, clumsy kiss.

"Told you it would be worth it," she says, coming around to stand beside him so they can look at the view together. It's breathtaking up here, the mountains rolling down into lush valleys of green, the lake a shard of glass below them, and they sink to sit together, Kate leaning against her partner.

"It's stunning," he breathes and she turns into him, her nose bumping against his cheek. She kisses the edge of his jaw, her hand coming up to rest at the opposite side of his face, and for a moment she lingers there, just letting her body be close to his.

Kate fishes her cell phone out of her pocket and holds it out, frames the shot so that the post that marks the end of the trail is visible behind the two of them. She takes a couple of pictures, one of them smiling and then another with goofy faces, and then she locks her phone again, slides it back into her pocket.

They sit for a long while, resting their weary bones and soaking in the sublime world, the jagged jut of the mountains crisp against the sweeping sky. Castle's arm stays banded around her shoulders, the weight of it helping her to feel tethered. Up here, the fearsome beauty of the landscape makes her feel insubstantial, and she always has the strangest urge to leap over the edge.

"Wanna go back down?" she says eventually and he nods, getting to his feet and reaching for the backpack, sliding it onto his shoulders again.

Kate stands as well and moves behind him, unzips the bag and fishes around inside for the sunscreen bottle. "We need to reapply. Well you definitely do, anyway. Don't want you to burn."

"Right. Yeah," he says, taking the bottle from her and applying a generous layer of lotion to his face and arms. Kate rubs some of the sunscreen into her own skin as well, doesn't want to get burned herself any more than she wants to see it happen to her partner. Once they're both done and the bottle safely put away in the bag, they head back down the trail.

They've been walking for almost an hour, the shade of the trees a blessed relief after the way they both started to bake up on top of the mountain, when Castle grabs her arm and forces her to stop. Her mouth pops open and she tugs her arm out of his too-tight grip, scowling at him, but he waves his hand and whispers urgently.

"Look. Just there. A deer with her baby."

Kate lets her gaze follow his pointing and sure enough, only a few yards away from the path a deer stands watching them with slow-blinking eyes, her little one haunting her side. Kate stays where she is, knowing better than to move and risk spooking the pair, but her partner takes careful steps forward, one after the other.

He leaves the trail entirely, standing in the underbrush now, and still the deer watch them, barely a twitch of the mother's tail to even suggest anything is amiss. Castle takes another few hesitant steps, and Kate's heart swells into her throat. She has no idea what he intends to do, if they'll let him get close enough to touch, but as his foot leaves the ground for another step a bird erupts out of a tree above their heads, squawking dramatically, and her eyes fly open just in time to witness the deer and her baby scamper away, dissolving into the forest so fast she almost doesn't believe they were ever there at all.

Castle turns back to face her, his shoulders slumped and she wants to curse out that bird for making him look like this. And then her eyes travel down his body a little way and she gasps, a hand flying up to her mouth.

"What's wrong?" he says, glancing behind himself as if he expects to see a bear emerging from the woods before he whips back around to face her, takes a stumbling step forward. "Beckett, what?"

Carding a hand through her hair, Kate licks her lips and shakes her head, can't quite lift her eyes to meet his. "You're standing in poison ivy."

"I am?" he says, glancing around himself as if just now noticing that he's not even on the trail path anymore. She can't exactly blame him; she wasn't watching where he was going any more than he was, her entire focus centred around those deer and the way the woods fell silent in their presence. "Shit. Crap. _Kate_."

"Oh, Castle, I'm sorry," she says, holding her hands out towards him and he picks his way back to the path, taking her hands once he's back on safe ground. "Have you ever been exposed to it before?"

He shakes his head, his mouth set in a grim line and she strokes her fingers down the side of his face, wary of letting her body get too close to his in case he transfers some of the plant oils on to her. "No, never. Is it bad?"

"It's not fun," she says, squeezing his fingers before she lets go. "Come on, lets head back to the cabin and get you into the bath. It might help the rash not to be too severe."

"Does that work?"

Kate chews on her bottom lip and flicks her eyes over to him, wincing a little. "I don't actually know. I've only ever been exposed to poison ivy a couple of times, and I didn't know that I had been until the rash was already presenting."

"This is gonna suck, isn't it," he groans, swiping both hands down his face and she hums in sympathy, rests a hand at the wing of his shoulder blade.

"Yes. For a little while, it will. But I'm right here, Castle. I'll look after you, okay?"

He kisses her for that, one hand nestled in her ponytail, and then he lets his forehead knock against hers. "I appreciate it. And I'm sorry in advance."

"For what?"

"For how much I'm going to complain."


	14. Chapter 14

**Living is Easy**

* * *

The moment they make it through the front door of the cabin, Kate starts hustling him towards the shower, both hands settled in the curve of his waist and her body hot and urgent at his back. She pushes open the door to the stall and steps away, motions for him to take all his clothes off. "The water can be warm, but try not to make it too hot. If you open your pores you're gonna absorb more of the oil."

"Right," he nods, stripping out of his clothes and moving past his partner to the kitchen to dump them straight into the washer. Heading back for the bathroom, he steps into the shower stall and turns the temperature dial way down, almost as cold as it will go. He feels clammy and gross anyway because it's so hot today, so the prospect of a cool shower doesn't seem all that bad.

Castle flicks on the water and stands underneath the stream, eyes closed as it runs in rivulets down his body. After a few minutes he lathers shower gel in his hands and scrubs it over his skin, his entire body erupting in gooseflesh now. It adds an element of urgency to his shower and he finishes up fast, turning off the water and stepping out of the stall to find a fresh towel folded on top of the counter to wait for him.

Wrapping it around his waist, Rick pads out of the bathroom in search of his partner, finds her in the kitchen with two tall glasses on the counter in front of her, both filled with crushed ice and a deep pink liquid. She turns at the sound of his footsteps and slides her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his pec that makes the muscle jump.

"Hey."

"Hi," he smiles, one hand resting gently at the nape of her neck. She's taken her ponytail down now, retied her hair into a messy knot on top of her head, and heat rolls off her, scalds his chilled skin everywhere they touch. "Did you want to shower too? Cool off."

Kate shakes her head and drops her arms from around him, handing over one of the glasses and taking the other for herself. She pulls open one of the cabinets and comes back with a box of straws, slots one into each of their drinks and heads for the back porch, trusting that he'll follow. "Not right now. I just want to drink this."

"What exactly is this?" he chuckles, settling down to sit in one of the adirondack chairs and resting his glass on the table at his side. He's still only wearing his towel, but it's not exactly like anyone except Kate is going to see so he shrugs and leans back in his seat, the sun-warmed slats of the wood lovely against his bare skin.

"It's just lemonade and some grenadine syrup I bought in the store the other day. I can't believe you didn't notice it in the refrigerator."

Castle takes a sip of the drink and hums, the strange sweet burst of the syrup chased immediately by tartness. The ice is lovely and he lets his eyes slip slowly closed, forgetting for a moment the torment that awaits him. "This is really good, Kate. Thank you."

"No problem," she says quietly, and his eyes come open just in time to catch her shy smile, the little dip of her head. She frowns a little, and he wonders if he looks as anxious as he feels. "You seem nervous. Are you alright?"

"Just not looking forward to the itching."

Reaching across the table, Kate's fingers come to skim over his forearm where it rests against the surface, her hand eventually sliding down to lay over the back of his, her fingers nudging their way into a kind of backwards hold. "I know. But it won't start for hours yet. Maybe not even a couple of days. Try not to let the anticipation ruin things while you're still feeling okay."

"You're right," he nods, flipping his hand under hers so he can capture her hold, gripping tight. Kate's free hand wraps around her glass and she drinks slowly, humming her contentment. He doesn't want to ruin this, a lazy afternoon with his love, so he straightens a little and manages a smile, turns his head towards her. "Any plans for the rest of the day?"

Kate groans and drops her head back to rest against the chair, setting her glass down again and letting her arms rest limp at either side of her. "To do nothing? I'm wiped out now."

"Me too," he says, carding a hand through his damp hair to push it back, stop it dripping onto his face. His whole body aches with the exertion of their hike and the thought of lazing around for the remainder of the day is infinitely appealing.

"I wanna sunbathe. Down by the dock."

"Okay," he shrugs, but Kate doesn't move to head down there, so he stays right where he is as well, watching her as she wipes a hand against the back of her neck, drawing her legs up into the chair. "Are you too hot?"

One shoulder lifts in an almost shrug, as if the heat of the day has sucked out her ability to move more than one limb at a time. "Yeah. Maybe we shouldn't have hiked at the hottest point of the day."

"Why don't we get in the lake for a little while? Just splash around and cool off."

"I'm not sure I have the energy," she sighs, her eyes not quite focusing even when she turns to look at him.

Standing up from his chair, Rick moves around to kneel in front of her and captures one of her hands in both of his, careful to keep his face as serious as he can manage. Her eyes float down to meet his and she lifts an eyebrow, but he doesn't allow even a twitch of his amusement to show through. "Katherine. I will carry you into the water myself, if that's what you need."

"You will?" she hums, tilting her head to the side. He nods, and Kate slides down out of her chair to join him on the ground, her arms sliding around his neck and her body nudging against his. "Well then, I can't exactly refuse, can I?"

His mouth meets hers slowly, a kiss that builds from just the brush of his lips over hers to the slick of her tongue inside, teeth scraping and her hands clutching at the top of his towel, tugging until it falls away and he's naked in front of her.

"I thought you were tired," he gasps and a wicked grin arcs across her face, her mouth open at his neck and sucking at the thread of his pulse. One of her hands fists in his hair and he gasps, his hips jerking sharply towards her. "Beckett. Inside."

"No. Right here."

She pushes on his shoulders until he's flat out, the wood of the porch almost uncomfortably warm against his bare skin, and for a fleeting moment he worries about splinters before Kate's knees come to either side of his hips and she chases his mouth.

* * *

Having him out on the deck - as amazing as it had been - wasn't exactly conducive to her cooling down, so by the time they actually make it into the lake the blessed relief of the water brings her right to the very edge of tears. It's just the heat making her foolish, and she swallows hard, presses her forehead to the nape of his neck.

Castle did carry her down to the lake, scooped her up into a piggyback once they had their swimsuits on, and her ankles cross in front of his stomach, her arms around his shoulders as he wades in. The water buoys her, and once they're waist deep she has to tighten her grip on him so she doesn't float away.

"How deep do you want to go?" he asks, half turning his head. Kate straightens her spine and leans forward, rests her chin on his shoulder so they're cheek to cheek.

She hums, considering it, and then she brings her legs down from around his waist and finds her footing on the lake floor, dropping her arms to let him turn and face her. "I don't really want to swim. I don't have the energy. Just paddle and cool down."

"There's a sand bar back there that we could probably sit on," he says, nodding his head back towards the shore and Kate takes his hand, the water making her shiver every time it laps at her bellybutton. They wade together towards the natural shelf and Kate sinks down to sit, the line of the water only just over her hips now. Leaning back on her elbows to submerge the rest of her abdomen, she glances up at her partner with a smile and waits for him to join her.

When Castle comes to sit beside her she straightens up again, already feeling much cooler and far less lethargic. His arm twines with hers and she rests her head against his shoulder, dusts a sloppy kiss to the inside of his bicep. The lake laps gently at them and she sighs, lifts a wet hand to rub the back of her neck. "It's so gorgeous here."

"Yeah," he agrees, his free hand moving slowly through the water until his fingers curl around the rise of her kneecap. "I can't wait to see what it's like in the winter. If I survive my poison ivy rash to even make it that far."

"Don't be ridiculous," she laughs, knocking her temple into his shoulder and jiggling her knee to make his hand bounce. She's not looking forward to watching him suffer, knows from past experience how awful it is, but she is strangely excited about the opportunity to take care of him. She'll be right here, even when he's whiny and annoying and snaps at her. "It'll probably only last a week or so."

He nods, managing a small smile for her, but she can't imagine how he must be feeling. At least whenever she's gotten the rash, she hasn't been stuck in limbo for hours beforehand just waiting for it to develop. A long sigh escapes Castle and he wiggles his toes, creating ripples in the water that dissipate around their waists.

"How long do you want to stay here?"

"Not much longer," she says, curling her legs up and allowing the weightlessness the lake gives her to float her closer to him until both knees bump against his thigh. "It's kind of cold when you're just sitting. I'm gonna lay on the dock for a bit."

An eyebrow lifts at her and he untangles his arm, drapes it around her shoulders as if he's worried that she might float away entirely. "Am I invited?"

"Well, yeah," she says, a little surprised that he even feels the need to ask. She always wants him close by, has not yet grown tired of the proximity she worked so hard for. "I just don't want you to feel like you _have_ to. If you want to write or do something else instead, that's okay too."

"I'm going to call Alexis. See how they're getting on," he says quietly, his eyes suddenly not quite meeting hers. Castle buries his toes in the sand, the barest hint of a frown puckering at his forehead, and Kate eases her arm around his back, snuggles in close.

"You miss her."

He nods, a little jump in his throat when he swallows, and then he turns to look at Kate again, tucks one of the escaped strands from her bun back out of her face. "Yeah. I know she's a high school graduate now, but she's still my baby girl. I think this trip is the longest we've ever been apart."

Chewing on her lip for a moment, Kate watches him work to push down his sorrow at his daughter's absence, the flicker of emotion across his face that he tampers, replaces with an easy smile. "You know, you could have gone with her. I never want to come between you two."

"I didn't want to miss our first summer," he says, leaning in until his nose nudges against hers and he can steal a soft kiss from her mouth. "And I wasn't invited anyway."

"You weren't?" she laughs, pulling back enough that she can see his face properly. Kate settles her hands at his cheeks to hold him there, refuses to let him tug away until she gets an answer.

He grins, turning his head to kiss her palm, and his eyes slip closed for a moment. "No. It was a girls' bonding trip. And I said I had book stuff to do anyway. Before I knew that I'd be doing you instead."

"Gross," she snorts, pressing her hand more firmly over his mouth a moment, as if she can retract that statement. It makes him laugh loudly, his eyes scrunched up, and he nibbles gently at the flesh of her palm before she pulls her hand away. "As long as you're sure. I'd never want to ask you to choose."

"Hey," he says, suddenly so very serious, and he fumbles for her hand under the water. The rippling motion reminds her of where she is and she shivers hard, gooseflesh erupting along the outside of her thighs. "You are just as important to me as my daughter, Kate."

Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she manages to nod and blink back the sudden, stupid burn of emotion behind her eyes. It's not exactly news that she matters to him, but that she's on the same level as Alexis is overwhelming, makes her mute.

His arms come around her and he rocks her a little, sloppy and filled with joy, allowing her to find her laughter again and press her smile into the side of his neck. Finding her feet under her, Kate stands up from the water and holds out a hand to him, hauls him up as well when he takes it.

They walk back to shore together, clasped hands swinging loosely between their bodies, and Kate heads for the dock, laying out the towel she left there and spreading out on top of it, feeling her suit already starting to tighten as the water begins to evaporate. Her partner kneels down at her side and bends to kiss her cheek, hovering there a moment before he straightens up again.

"I'm gonna call her now. I'll come find you when I'm done."

"Kay," she hums, feeling drowsy and catlike again now that she's out of the water, and once she hears his footsteps pad away from her she reaches for her iPod, pushes the headphones into her ears and lets her eyes slip closed.

* * *

His daughter doesn't pick up when he first calls and he leaves his phone on the kitchen counter, tries not to let anxiety clutch too fiercely at him. Busying himself with examining the contents of the refrigerator, thinking about dinner, he startles when his cell phone rings and jerks away from the fridge, pushes it closed on his way to the island.

The caller ID picture of his daughter always makes him smile like an idiot and he swipes his thumb to accept the call, lifting the phone to his ear and sinking to sit in one of the barstools. "Hi, pumpkin."

"Hi Dad," her voice comes across the line, so clear and bright considering the distance between them, and he sags a little with the relief of speaking to her. He's been so busy - so _in love_ \- with Kate that it's kept him distracted, but there's a constant ache when he's apart from his little girl, like having to function without a limb.

"How are you? _Where_ are you?" he laughs, drumming his fingers against the countertop. He's been keeping up with where his mother and daughter are in their trip for the most part, but he hasn't checked the itinerary on his phone for a couple of days, so he's not sure.

In the background of his daughter's end of the line he hears his mother's laughter, pealing and delighted about something, and then a door opens and closes again and he hears the ambient noise of a street. "Hi. Sorry. Gram and I were out to dinner, but I couldn't hear you in the restaurant. We're in Prague."

"What time is it?" he gasps, suddenly remembering that his daughter is hours in the future, and it's already almost evening here.

"It's nearly eleven. We had a late lunch, so we ended up having a pretty late dinner too, and then Gram made a friend so we've just been sitting at a table with him for a couple of hours."

Rick's nose scrunches and he scowls at that, imagines his daughter can hear his silent disgust. " _Him_?"

"Yes, his name's František. He's really nice actually."

"Is Gram flirting?" he winces, closing his eyes while he waits for his daughter's answer.

Alexis laughs and he hears the eye roll in her voice, so much like Beckett that he's almost afraid of what will happen once the two of them start to spend more time together. "Of course. When isn't she? But it's not- it's fine."

"Okay sweetheart, as long as she's not ruining things," he says, spinning around on the barstool to lean his back against the edge of the counter. From here, he can see all the way down to the water, Kate's body a pale line stretched out along the dock, and he has to tear his eyes away to concentrate on his daughter.

"What have you been up to, Dad? Not too bored I hope."

He told his mother and Alexis that Beckett had been temporarily suspended from the precinct, so he wouldn't be shadowing her for a while. He had also said that he and Kate had patched things up, figured out their differences, and very carefully not given any more detail than that.

"No, I've been fine. Working on the book, you know?"

"And have you. . .have you spent any time with Detective Beckett? Outside of work, I mean."

He swallows, wishes desperately that he didn't have to lie to his daughter. Only, he's not sure how she's going to react to the news that he and Kate are together now, and if that reaction turns out to be negative he doesn't want it to ruin her trip. It can wait until she's home. "We've gotten lunch together a couple of times, yes."

There's a heavy pause and he covers his eyes with his free hand, wishes he could see Alexis' face. "I'm really glad, Dad. I like you much better when you're not fighting with her."

Rick isn't entirely sure whether his daughter means that she wants him and Beckett to be friends, or she wants them not to communicate at all, but he clings to hope for the former with both hands. "I don't like fighting with her either, Alexis, but we're in a really good place now."

"Oh?" his daughter says, and he curses internally. Of course his little girl would pick up on his total change in attitude regarding Kate, is smart enough to figure out that something more is going on.

"Just that we're back to being good friends, pumpkin. Best friends, really."

His daughter makes a little noise, like she's not quite buying that explanation, but he holds his breath and she doesn't push him any further, seems satisfied with that for now. "I'm glad. I guess Detective Beckett really needs a friend right now, too. She loves her job so much; I can't imagine how she's coping with being suspended."

"She seemed okay when I saw her," he says, remembering the serene softness of her face when she stretched out on the towel, the way she hummed and lifted up into his kiss a little. "How's your trip so far?"

"It's great, Dad." his daughter says, her words bending around a smile and he grins himself, so delighted that she's having a good time. "I kind of want to tell you all about it face to face though. Show you our pictures."

Rick stands up from the barstool and wanders out towards the back deck, suddenly needing to be out in the open air. Sometimes even now, after almost nineteen years, he's so overwhelmed by his little girl. She is a person that he and Meredith made together but she's so different, so much _better_ than either of them ever has been.

"That sounds great, sweetheart," he says quietly, sinking into the adirondack chair. From here, he has a better view of Kate, can see that she's rolled over to let the sun hit her back now. She really needs to reapply sunscreen, and he gets up to head back into the house and find the backpack dumped in the entryway, fish out the lotion bottle from inside.

"I'm gonna go," his daughter is saying, and he hears his mother's voice again, her words not quite discernible. "Gram and I are heading back to the hotel now. Time for bed."

Her yawn triggers one in him, even from four thousand miles away, and he lifts a hand to cover his mouth, shakes his head to dispel the cobwebby sleep. "Okay, pumpkin. Goodnight. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad," his daughter says, and then the phone beeps to alert him that she's disconnected the call. He feels a little more at peace now, hearing that she's having a good time, and he pads back outside and down to the dock, comes to kneel next to Kate.

Lifting her head, she props her chin on her folded arms to see him, her eyes mostly closed against the sun as it sinks down towards the belly of the earth. They've got a few hours still until it's dark, but right now the light is at optimum level to hit them both right in the eyes. "How is she?"

"She's great. My mother has been flirting all evening with a man she met in a restaurant, František, but Alexis didn't seem to mind."

"I'm glad she's having a good time," Kate says, sitting up and folding her legs beneath herself, taking the lotion bottle from him and wordlessly pouring some out into her hand, massaging it into her skin. He watches in silence, holding the bottle for her, and only when she turns around does he find his voice again.

Rick pours lotion into the cup of his palms and works it into his partner's shoulders and the back of her neck, continues to massage long after all of the sunscreen has been absorbed into her skin. "She asked after you, you know. Wanted to make sure you were coping with your suspension okay, and that I'd been there for you."

"What did you say?" she asks, turning over her shoulder to look at him and he leans in, kisses the end of her nose and tastes the strange almost-sweetness of lotion there.

"I said that I'd met you for lunch a few times and that you were coping just fine."

Turning back around, Kate arches an eyebrow and stalks towards him on all fours, predatory and intoxicating. She climbs right into his lap and he grins, sliding his arms to wrap around her waist and nuzzling at her hairline. "You met me for lunch, did you? Or did you _have me_ for lunch."

"Jeez, Beckett," he groans, seeking her mouth and slicking his tongue inside almost immediately, his hands useless and clumsy at her back, stumbling along her spine. He tries to keep their kiss directionless, gentles her whenever her teeth catch in his lip or her hips rock a little too aggressively. Eventually, he breaks away from her mouth entirely, takes a second to catch his breath. "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat," she says darkly, shifting purposefully in his lap, but he gives her a moment to really think about it and then her stomach grumbles and she laughs, presses a hand to her cheek. "Yes, I am. Wanna make dinner together?"

"Sure," he says easily, waiting for her to climb out of the cradle of his legs before he stands up, searching for her hand to hold as they make their way up to the cabin again.

Inside, he lets her lead him to the refrigerator and stands at her side when she tugs it open, the lovely cool that spills over them both making him sigh. Kate chews on her lip and rummages through a few things, turns over her shoulder to look at him. "Any ideas?"

"Paella?" he says, noticing the chorizo and the prawns in their packets, some chicken as well. "Have we got saffron and paprika?"

Kate pulls open one of the high cabinets, stretching onto the tips of her toes to look at the neat rows of spices on the second shelf. She finds the two he needs and hands them to him, beaming with girlish pride. "Here. What else do you need?"

"Um," he glances back into the fridge, hunting through the vegetable drawer to find carrots and a red pepper. He sets them on the counter with the spices and the meat and prawns, catches her hips in his hands to draw her in to a kiss. "Onion, garlic, rice, peas and chicken stock."

"We've got all of those," she smiles, closing the refrigerator door so more cold can't escape and moving easily around him, gathering the rest of the ingredients from various cabinets to spread out on the counter.

Kate stays close to his side while he cooks, eager to peel and chop and stir. She went to change while he chopped the meat and now she's wearing yoga pants and one of his t-shirts, an apron hiding most of it from view. She's adorable like this, skin bare of makeup and her eyes bright with wonder at something so mundane as his cooking.

When the paella is done they eat together out on the back deck, her chair pulled around to the same side of the little table as his own so she can sit with her feet in his lap, wriggling her toes every time she moans her appreciation for the meal. He's astounded that he even manages to finish his bowl at all.

"That was so good," she groans once she's done eating, her palm pressed to her stomach and her head back against the seat, eyes closed. "You should have cooked for me when we first met. That would have won me over straight away."

"Hey, I did cook for you!" he pouts, frowning at her even though she's not actually looking at him. "One of our really early cases, when I bought you that dress."

Her eyes pop open and she lifts her head to see him, mouth curving into a slow smile at the memory. "Right. The next morning when I came to return your mom's necklace, you cooked breakfast."

"Yes," he says, folding his arms and staring her down. Okay, so breakfast wasn't the most complicated meal in the world, but he's pretty sure it still counts, and now he's wondering if he might have been able to woo her a little when her belly had been full of the food he cooked. Maybe bring her into his office with him, back her up against the desk, kiss her as slowly as he dared.

"Castle," she laughs, waving a hand at him to pull him out of his daydreams. "It wouldn't have worked back then. But it did warm me to you, just a little bit."

He chuckles, wrapping the fingers of one hand around her foot and tracing his thumb over her toes. "Well I'm glad for that. And you know I'll cook for you any time."

"Only fair that I clean up then," she says, standing from her chair and collecting both of their bowls, carrying them with her back into the kitchen. Rick stays where he is, listening to the sound of Kate pottering about inside the cabin, running water as she cleans the dishes.

The two biggest parts of his life - as Alexis' father and Kate's partner - are both pretty much perfect at the moment, both make him happier than he ever knew he could be. He's just afraid of what will happen when the two inevitably have to merge, when Alexis finds out that he and Kate are a lot more than friends now. What if Alexis goes right back to being disdainful towards Beckett? What if she gives him an ultimatum?

He's so caught up in worry about that eventuality that he doesn't even notice Kate's return until she's already settling into his lap, legs dangling over the edge of the chair and her head pillowed against his chest. "Are you itching yet?"

"Hmm?" he glances down at her, dusts a kiss to the crown of her head. "No, not yet. I'm okay."

"You look sad. What's wrong?" she murmurs, one hand settling at his cheek. Her thumb rests at the corner of his mouth and she frowns just slightly at him. That same serious determination that she has when they're close to solving a case is focused these days on caring about him, being a good partner, and he's still amazed that he deserves that level of devotion from her.

"I miss my daughter. And when she comes back, I don't want to have to miss you instead. I want to be able to spend time with both of you together."

A soft sigh escapes her and Kate lays her head back down, her hand settling on his chest now, over his heart. "Castle, I love your daughter. I'm happy to spend time with her. I just don't want to make her uncomfortable in her own home, or feel like I'm stealing you from her."

"She's not six," he says softly, tightening his arm around her shoulders because she cares so deeply for his little girl, for his family, and he can't believe that this is the woman he gets to be with. "She'll understand that loving you doesn't mean I love her any less."

He gets a quiet murmur of agreement from her and he kisses her forehead, the two of them sitting in silence together for a long while. She yawns and he jostles her a little bit, offers a smile when she pulls away to look at him. "Wanna go snuggle down in bed together? Maybe read for a while."

"Mm," she arches, scrubbing her hands against her eyes before she sags against him. "Yes. You should get as much sleep as you can now before you start feeling bad."

"Don't remind me," he grumbles, following her into the cabin and pausing to lock the french doors before he heads to join her in the bathroom and get ready for bed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Living is Easy**

* * *

A low groan pulls Kate up out of sleep, the room thick with darkness that feels totally disorienting, leaves her grasping at the sheets. The sound cuts off in a whimper and she rolls over to try and see her partner, the mass of his body little more than a solid patch of shadow, a place of richer dark than the rest of the room. Reaching out, Kate touches the very top of his arm and he shudders, grunting something.

"Castle?"

"Kate," he sighs, and she thinks she sees his eyes come open. "Itches. This sucks."

Sitting up in bed, Kate flicks on the bedside lamp and scrubs her hands against her eyes to dispel the grit, folding her legs underneath herself and pushing back the sheets to reveal her partner's legs. He's wearing only boxer shorts and his legs are streaked with ribbons of swollen redness, mostly below the knee but creeping up onto his thighs as well.

He starts to reach down towards his own legs and Kate grabs for him, clutches both of his hands tight. "Don't scratch it. It'll only make it worse."

"I have to," he chokes out, reaching for her pillow and pressing it over his head, one hand still in hers and squeezing so hard that her knuckles blanch. "Kate, it itches so bad."

"I know it does," she soothes, tugging the pillow out of his grip so she can smooth her fingers through his hair over and over, her body bent double over his as if to shield him. "Do you want to take an oatmeal bath? It can help."

He nods, eyes screwed firmly closed and Kate leans in, kisses the furrow of his brow and drifts down until she meets his lips. Castle's response to the touch of her mouth at his is lethargic, barely reacting to the kiss at all and she sighs, pulling away from him and climbing out of her side of the bed.

Snagging a sweater from the chair in the corner of the room, Kate tugs it on over her head and pads through to the kitchen. There are no curtains in the main living space and she comes to a stop in front of the french doors, arrested by the vast expanse of the sky, pricked with thousands of tiny holes to let the light of the universe spill through.

The moon's round, waxy face gazes down at her and Kate shakes herself, moving for the kitchen. Yes, the world is sublime, and she wants to lay on her back and watch the rotation of the earth, but her partner needs her.

In the cabinet, she discovers a bag of plain, unflavoured oatmeal and she sets it on the counter, rummaging through a drawer until she finds coffee filter bags. She measures out enough oatmeal to fill the bag and pours it carefully inside, tying the filter off with a rubber band so that the oatmeal can't escape into the bath.

Heading back to the bathroom, Kate detours to poke her head around the bedroom door and check on her partner. His face is screwed up again, hands in fists in the sheets and her heart flings itself dramatically against the wall of her chest. She leaves the door open and steps into the bathroom, turning on the faucet to fill the tub with the hottest water the tank can manage.

Kate perches on the side of the bathtub, the porcelain carving a cool line into the backs of her thighs, and once the water is a couple of inches deep she drops the oatmeal bag into the back end of the tub, away from the stream of water from the faucet. She stays until the tub is full and then she turns the faucet off again, the sudden cease of the tank's groaning making her shiver in the silence.

Back in the bedroom, she climbs up into the bed again and crawls toward her partner, settling cross-legged beside him and sliding her arms under his chest to ease him into her lap. His face mashes against her thigh and he sighs, a little of the tension draining out of him when her fingers slide through his hair. Peering at his legs, she sees that already the redness has erupted into hundreds of tiny blisters and she clutches a little tighter at him.

"Does it hurt?" she murmurs, her thumb just touching at the corner of his eye now.

He rolls over onto his back to see her, the dark sweep of his lashes over his cheeks giving way to mournful blue, and he reaches for her other hand. "Not. . .it itches. Bad."

"It seems worse than any of the times I had it," she says softly, the fingers of her free hand feathering over the shell of his ear. Kate sits for fifteen minutes with her partner in her lap, drowsy and not entirely with her. His eyes can't stay open for longer than a few seconds at a time and his throat works around silence, his body a dead weight. After enough time has passed for the water to cool, Kate rouses him with a gentle tug at his ear, bends to kiss his temple. "Feel like you want to get in the bath?"

"Yeah," he slurs, and Kate gets her hands under him and splays them at his shoulder blades to help him sit up. His body groans like an old ship, wood rot making him unstable and she keeps her grip on him as she slides out of bed, draws her fingers down his arm to curl around his and help him to his feet.

She's not entirely sure if this sluggishness is because of the poison ivy or because it's barely four am and Castle has never done well with having to wake up in the middle of the night, always seems to struggle and have to fight for consciousness.

Arm banded around his waist, Kate walks with him to the bathroom and waits for him to slip his underwear off, letting him use her shoulder for balance as he climbs into the tub. She rolls up a hand towel and holds it against the rim of the tub for him, keeps it steady as he rests his neck there. Once he's settled, a long sigh of contentment escaping him, Kate reaches into the water for the oatmeal bag and squeezes it gently, careful not to break the filter paper.

"How's that? Feel better?" she murmurs, wet fingers sliding through his hair to push the spill of it back away from his forehead. The bathroom is dark, only the slice of hallway light from the open door and the moon's omniscient eye gazing at them through the window allowing her to see him at all.

"This helps," he says quietly, opening his eyes to see her face a moment. One clumsy hand rises out of the water and reaches for her, curls around her forearm. Kate is on her knees next to the tub, arms folded and resting on the rim, and she pillows her cheek against the crook of her elbow to watch him. "Will you stay?"

Arching her neck a little, Kate brushes a handful of kisses to his fingertips, ignoring the crunch of her knees against the hardwood when she shifts. "Of course I'll stay. I won't leave you."

"Can you. . .distract me?" his head rolls to the side and he glances at her again, his fingers still tight at her arm. He looks so pitiful that she leans forward, her stomach pressed against the edge of the tub as she kisses him. When she pulls back her nose nudges his and a small smile quirks at one corner of his mouth, his palm curled around her shoulder. "Tell me a story."

"What kind of story?"

For a long while he doesn't answer, and she wonders if he heard the question at all, wonders if he's fallen back to sleep in the tub. And then his eyes slide open and roam her face before they fix on hers, his face a little less miserable when he looks at her. "A story about the future."

"Oh," she gasps, feels it like a fist to the solar plexus. A hundred visions of the life she hopes for them swamp her and she presses two fingers to her mouth, doesn't want to blurt them all out at once. She will give him that hope, but she'll do it gracefully. "We'll come here at Christmas."

He makes a little noise in acknowledgement, but he's still not really with her and it makes her brave. Makes her want to be truthful about what she's working towards, if only because she's not entirely sure he'll remember this later. Carding a hand through his hair, Kate sits back on her feet and lets the words come.

"We'll come for Christmas, and you'll be my husband," she murmurs, just the thought of that making her giddy. Kate wiggles her finger, imagining what sort of ring he might pick out for her. "The whole family will be here, packed in tight, but that won't matter much. Everyone will be too busy having fun to care."

Castle lifts his head for a second and glances at her, his eyes wide with astonishment, before he rests back against the towel. "Whole family?"

"Yep," she nods, reaches for his hand where it rests against the side of the tub and clings tight, alarmed by the ferocity that comes awake slowly inside her, a hesitant beast of longing she's finally allowing to stretch out, get comfortable. "Me and you, Alexis and Martha, my dad. And the little ones."

"Little ones?" he gasps, rearing up and almost out of the tub in his haste to get to her. Kate pushes gently on his shoulder to ease him back into the tub, not sure she can handle the wet hulk of his body rising over her right now.

The tentative vision dangles before her on a single thread, at risk of unspooling away or snapping completely, and she cups her hands around it and holds it close to her chest, her voice soft as she shares it with him. "Two, I think. A boy and a girl. We can get bunk beds for my old room."

"We might have to extend," he says, thick with emotion, and his lashes clump together with the faintest hint of tears. "If our family is going to grow so much."

"Yeah," she chokes out, her smile blooming suddenly and taking over her whole face, stretched so wide that her cheeks ache with it, her eyes almost screwed closed. "And we'll make sure to keep them away from the poison ivy."

She can already see their little faces, chubby fingers curled around hers. The cabin alive with laughter and tiny footsteps, she and Castle taking them down to the lake to paddle. It twists in her gut and she bows forward, her head meeting the lovely, cool porcelain of the bathtub. Castle's hand lands at the back of her skull, making her hair wet, and his thumb strokes back and forth to soothe.

"Sorry," she says quietly, lifting her head again and capturing his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. She's supposed to be the one soothing him, didn't mean to get so overwhelmed by their future.

"That's what you want for us?" he asks, sitting up in the bath and drawing his legs up a little. She doesn't know if it was the bath or the distraction of her silly heart spilling all over the floor, but he seems more with her now. Less miserable.

Teeth sinking into her bottom lip, Kate nods at him, not entirely sure herself where that vision of their future came from. "Yeah. If you. . ."

"Kate," he says gravely, two fingers at her chin until she lifts her head, manages to meet his eyes. "I want everything with you. Anything."

"You should get out now," she says quietly, because if they continue on with this conversation she's going to start crying for real, or do something she shouldn't do yet. There are still so many obstacles to work through - their families don't even know that they're together - but she almost wants to promise all of it to him right now regardless. "Or you'll make it worse."

He nods, smiling at her, and he frames her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss before he climbs out of the bathtub. Castle reaches for a towel from the rack and she takes it from him, still kneeling at his feet. She pats his skin dry, careful not to rub and burst open any of the blisters or hurt his tender skin. Getting to her feet, Kate hands him the towel back to let him dry the rest of himself and she pulls open the cabinet, rummages inside until she comes back with calamine lotion.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep if you put some lotion on?" she asks, turning back in time to see him pulling on his boxer shorts. She's been mostly too intent on tending to his discomfort to let the broad slope of his bare chest distract her, but with his skin flushed from the bath and the moonlight just barely touching his shoulders her mouth goes dry.

Kate sets the bottle of lotion on the counter behind her and stalks forward, sliding her hands low around his waist and opening her mouth against the hollow of his throat, the barest graze of her teeth making him grunt and jerk his hips into hers. "I thought you wanted me to try to sleep."

"I do," she murmurs, her tongue travelling up the side of his neck now and making him clutch at her, his fingers intent at her waist. "But I wanna make out a little first."

"Can we do that in bed?" he leers, tangling his fingers with hers and tugging on her. Kate pauses to pull the plug out of the bathtub and collect the calamine bottle from the counter before she allows him to pull her back to the bedroom, following him right into bed. He stretches out on his back and tugs her on top of him, the lotion forgotten somewhere in the sheets as she kisses him.

It takes her some time, but eventually she manages to break away from his mouth and roll off him entirely, landing hard against the mattress at his side. "Castle. You need to sleep while you're feeling a little better. It's so early still."

The clock is just creeping towards five now, but she's hopeful that her body will let her catch up on the slice of sleep that's been carved out of her night and not drag her awake at barely six.

"You're right," he yawns, dropping his arm to cover his eyes and sighing. "Pass the lotion?"

"I got it," Kate says quietly, fishing in the sheets until she finds the bottle. She heads into the bathroom to find a clean cloth and then she comes back to kneel at her partner's side. Uncapping the lotion, she pours some out onto the cloth and begins patting it into Castle's skin where the rash is.

Once she's done she gets up again to rinse the cloth out in the sink, leaving it there to deal with properly in the morning. Castle hasn't moved at all and she climbs into the bed and stretches out beside him, skims her fingers over his cheek.

His eyes come open and he rolls his head to the side to see her, a gentle smile curving at his mouth. "Hi."

"Hi there," she chuckles, leaves her fingers resting at his shoulder. "You probably should sleep on top of the sheets. They might aggravate your skin more."

"You're just saying that because you want them all to yourself," he huffs at her and she laughs, lifts up on her elbow to kiss his mouth. He's drowsy again, and she suspects it won't be very long before he falls back to sleep, so Kate folds her arms under herself to keep watch.

He always seems to fall so fast, one moment teasing her and the next snuffling and twitching with dreams, and she stays awake for a long time just watching over him. If he wakes up needing her she wants to be ready, wants to soothe him before he's even fully conscious, but eventually exhaustion wins out over her fierce need to protect her partner and she falls asleep without even knowing she's doing it.

* * *

When he wakes up, his legs are aflame. He groans and tries to roll over but a hand comes to his sternum, holds him in place. Castle rears against it, the unbearable itching making him want to thrash around in the bed, but the hand persists and eventually he sags back to the mattress.

"Want some more lotion?" a voice says, and it takes him a long while to figure out that he knows it, sweet and familiar. Lovely Kate, and his eyes pop open to see her bowed half over him in a darkness more artificial, shallower, than in the middle of the night.

"Another bath," he grunts at her and she nods, gets up and pads out of the room. He hears the groan of the tank coming to life, the thunder of water hitting the floor of the bathtub and he sighs, anticipating the sweet relief the oatmeal will bring.

It's a little while before she comes back, long enough that he climbs out of bed to slat open the blinds and then gets back in, props himself up against the headboard. The light that comes in is enough for him to inspect his legs and he draws them up one at a time, sees the angry redness, the swelling.

He feels like a child, wants to whine and stamp his feet at the unfairness of not being allowed to scratch even just a little bit, but before his tantrum really gains any fervour his partner comes back to sit at his hip, stroking a hand through his hair and down to play with his ear.

"How are you feeling?" she hums, and he lets himself tip forward into her until their foreheads meet, her breath washing hot over his cheek.

"Not great. The itching is gonna drive me insane."

His partner huffs a breath of laughter and tugs back to look at him, framing his face in her hands and smoothing her thumb along the rise of his cheekbone. Her eyes are soft at the edges, tenderness and exhaustion both, and she gives him a small smile of encouragement. "I won't let it, Castle. I'll be here to distract you."

"Mm," he sighs, drawing her back in close until his mouth meets hers. Castle works at her until she opens up for him, sliding his hands around to cradle the nape of her neck, the curve of her skull. His most precious thing. "You're amazing."

That makes her laugh, the flush of lovely colour high up in her cheeks, just creeping up the base of her throat like ivy. "Come on, bath's ready. Let's get you more comfortable."

He follows her through to the bathroom, the sunlight splashing through the window to warm the wooden flooring. It makes him curl his toes and he smiles, one hand clasped firmly in Kate's. Yes he's itching, and it does kind of suck, but he's here at a beautiful cabin with his best friend in the world, and he sends a silent prayer of thanks up to the universe.

Rick climbs into the tub and sinks down, the immediate relief of the oatmeal and the cool water making him groan. Resting his head against the rolled up towel at the rim of the tub, he stretches his legs out in the water and glances at his partner, sees she's pulled a chair through so she can sit with him. "This tub is huge."

"Yeah," she laughs, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against the back of the chair, her fingers skimming along his shoulder and coming to rest there, just barely brushing his skin. "My parents are both tall, and my mom loved her baths. So when the bathroom was done she demanded that the tub was big enough to fit her in it."

"Enough room for both of us," he leers, and Kate ducks her head, a soft smile flirting with the curve of her lips.

The bathroom window is open and the swell of the woods pours inside, the layers of noise just as rich and vibrant as in the city. He can hear the chirping of cicadas calling out to one another, birds delighting in song and then Kate's breathing over all of it, her presence beside him always the absolute focus.

"Shall I read to you?" she says and he reaches for her hand, draws it towards his mouth to dust a kiss to her knuckles. Her fingers feather over the edge of his jaw and she gives him a wide smile, one that shows all of her teeth. As if she's both surprised and delighted to have found him here, and that same feeling of awe swells in his chest. "Which book would you like?"

"Surprise me."

He lets his eyes slip closed while Kate heads to peruse the bookshelves in the main living space, listens to the soft pad of her bare feet. It's been hours since he's been dressed, but his nakedness doesn't make him feel as vulnerable as he would have imagined, even with Kate wandering about in his shirt.

When she comes back she's got two novels in her hands and she sinks back to sit in her chair, holds them up for him to see. One of them is a Storm novel and he groans, covers his eyes with a hand. "Please not _Gathering Storm_."

"You don't like your own books?" she hums, arching an eyebrow at him when he drops his hand to see her. The curve of her mouth quivers with amusement, but she sets the Storm novel down on the floor at her feet and leans back in her chair, waiting for his explanation.

"Do you know how many times I've had to read that book, with writing it and then editing and then the press tour? I hate reading my own books, because my writing feels so stale and boring after reading it that many times."

Understanding blooms over her face and she nods, reaches for his hand to squeeze his fingers. "But you. . .you'll still read them to me sometimes, right?"

"Of course I will," he says, threading his fingers through hers so that their palms kiss. She asked him to read to her early in their relationship, only a handful of days together when she had curled into his lap with _Heat Wave_ and closed her eyes, head pillowed against his chest. He won't read his books for his own enjoyment, but if it makes Kate happy, makes her snuggle in close to him like that, he'd be happy to read the same novel every day for the rest of his life.

"I brought _Frankenstein_ too, since I'm already reading it. You don't mind if I don't start at the beginning, right?"

He chuckles, shifting slowly in the water and draping his arm along the rim of the bathtub. "Sure. I think I remember how it starts."

As Kate reads to him, he lets his eyes slide closed, just listening to the lovely cadence of her voice. She gives each word such deliberate attention, as if she knows exactly how much thought goes in to the string of a sentence, the way they build into paragraphs. He loves listening to her, how much gravity and respect she affords the story, and when she pauses after ten minutes to tell him it's time to get out of the bath he jerks, startled by the sudden rocket forward through the centuries.

Rick climbs out and wraps a towel around his waist, padding through to Kate's childhood bedroom with the warmth of her body at his naked back. Now that they're sleeping in her parents' bed he kind of feels like maybe they should transfer all of their stuff to the dresser in that bedroom, but there doesn't seem much point with only a few days left at the cabin so he shrugs and pulls on underwear, rummaging in the drawer for shorts that won't aggravate his skin too much.

After he pulls a t-shirt on over his head he turns to see Kate hovering close by, the bottle of calamine lotion in hand. She gestures for him to sit on the edge of the bed and she kneels at his feet, patting the lotion into his skin. "Feeling okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, reaching for her to help her to her feet. She disappears into the attached bath for a moment to wash the lotion off of her hands and then she comes back, a knee propped against the mattress and both arms sliding around his shoulders, her body bowed over his until her mouth meets the crown of his head. Rick tips his chin up to see her, arches into a kiss that crumbles around twin smiles. "A lazy morning, then?"

"Why not. You're probably not up to much else anyway, right?"

He shrugs, manages a grin for her, but even with the bath and the lotion his legs are licked with fire, the niggling itch making him want to grit his teeth. "Not really. Wanna snuggle on the couch and read some more?"

"Sure," she reaches for his hand, uses the knot of their fingers to tug him up to standing. They wander through to the living room and Kate nudges him towards the couch to get comfortable, stopping at the french doors to unlock them and push them wide open. "I'm gonna call Tilly, see if she wants to come for dinner tomorrow. You hungry?"

"Not really," he shrugs, leaning his head against the back of the couch and watching her head for the kitchen and collect her cell phone from the countertop. The itching has stolen his appetite, and all he really wants to do is laze around and keep his partner warm and close.

She pours a tall glass of water and brings it back over to him, settling onto the couch with one leg folded underneath herself. "Drink that. You need to stay hydrated, babe."

"Did you just call me _babe_?" he gasps, feels his entire body unravelling with glee, but this is just _fantastic_. He never, ever would have pegged Kate Beckett as one for pet names, has not yet dared to use one in regard to her in case she took his ear clean off.

"Shut up," she groans, mortification staining her cheeks before she buries her face in her hands, shoulders hunched over.

Rick rests his hand at her back, between the sharp wings of her shoulder blades, and his thumb strokes back and forth. "Kate, it's my honour to be your babe."

She growls at that, butting her head into his shoulder and he laughs, wrapping an arm around her and trying his best not to spill the water everywhere. His grip still tight around her, he stretches to set the glass down safely on the end table and brings his free hand around her as well, nuzzling at her temple.

"It just slipped out," she says quietly, still blushing when she lifts her head to look at him, and that zigzag vein thrums in her forehead.

Rick touches his thumb to it, smoothing slowly back and forth, and then he leans in and kisses that jagged line. "You don't need to be embarrassed about it, Beckett. We're a couple, it's only natural to use terms of endearment. And how are you supposed to resist when I'm just so ruggedly handsome?"

"I guess," she giggles, tilting her head just slightly to look at him, and a smile finally blossoms across her face. "Don't expect it to be a regular thing though."

"Of course not. Sugar muffin."

Her nose wrinkles and she turns her face away, rolling her eyes and swatting at his hands where they're still all over her. Kate reaches for her phone on the couch cushion beside her and unlocks it, scrolling through her contacts until she finds Tilly's name.

Chin propped on his partner's shoulder, Rick listens as she chats to her childhood friend, and they arrange for Tilly to come over for dinner tomorrow night. After the call is done Kate turns to look at him, lifting a hand to rest against his cheek. "Are you gonna be okay to sit through dinner?"

"Yeah," he assures her, leaning into the cool touch of her palm and turning his head to brush a kiss there. "The distraction will be good."

"Okay," she smiles, reaching across his body to snag the book from the end table. Her legs stretch out across the top of his thighs, well away from the poison ivy rash, and he curls a hand around one of her bare feet. Her toes wiggle and she smiles, tongue darting out as she finds the page they left off at.

His eyes close as she starts reading and he loses himself in the story she tells, thumb sweeping back and forth over the smooth skin at the top of her foot and his legs growing numb with the weight of hers on top. When she gets to a good stopping place, her throat starting to sound raspy and sore, she closes the book and shifts to get closer to him, her body curled up under his arm. Rick kisses the smooth edge of her temple, stays for a little while just breathing the crisp scent of her, and then he tugs back enough to see her face. In profile, so he gets the shard of her cheek and the elegant curve of her nose, one eye shuttered closed so her fragile lashes feather at her skin. "Hey Kate?"

"Mm?" she hums, turning to see him, and a smile settles easily at the seam of her mouth.

"Thanks for putting up with me."


	16. Chapter 16

**Living is Easy**

* * *

"I'm gonna head into town and get you some Benadryl," Kate says after a little while, still curled up close underneath her partner's arm. His breathing is slow and even, the lift and fall of his chest almost rocking her where she leans against him, and she's not entirely sure that he's awake.

It takes a little while, but he stirs and squeezes her bicep, blinks his eyes slowly open to see her. "Okay. I might take another bath."

"Alright," she says, wriggling her way out from under Castle's arm and standing up from the couch, turning back around to prop a knee against the cushion and lean in, framing his face in her hands. Her kiss is gentle, just the brush of her lips over his and he sighs, lashes fluttering against her cheek. "Remember not to stay in too long."

"I'll remember."

Kate touches her thumb to the corner of his still-closed eye, enough distance between them now that she can see his face clearly and she waits for him to look at her. It's a struggle, like wading up through molasses before his eyes open and she sighs, her hand slipping down to rest against his cheek. "Don't take a bath if you're gonna fall asleep. I don't want you to drown."

"I won't drown," he hums, leaning into her touch until the weight of his skull presses against her palm. For a moment, she debates staying here and waiting until he falls asleep before she drives into town, but he needs the medicine.

And she needs a little space. Kate is grateful for the chance to care for him, honoured to be the person he opens his eyes to in the morning, but this is their eighth day at the cabin and she hasn't spent this much uninterrupted time with another person since she left home to go to college. It's starting to suffocate her a little, his fingers gentle around her throat but still cutting off her air, and she's glad for the chance to escape for a half hour.

It's not that she doesn't love him. That's exactly why she wants to get away for a little while; if she stays here with his arm draped over her and his breath against her cheek she's going to snap at him, going to say something hurtful and possibly untrue. He's sick, and he needs her, and she hates that it makes her feel panicked and thrashing, locked up like a songbird.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to get," Kate asks, drawing her knee down slowly from the couch until she's standing in front of him. "Any comfort food?"

Castle wrinkles his nose at that, gives her a small shake of his head. "No, I'm not really hungry. Just itchy."

"I know," she soothes, her thumb brushing the swell of his bottom lip. "I'm gonna get you the Benadryl, and then you'll feel better and you can eat something."

"Kay," he murmurs, a hand coming up to curl around her wrist so he can tug away her touch, his mouth forming a soft kiss against her palm instead. "Thanks, Kate. Love you,"

She leans in to kiss his forehead, and then Kate steps away entirely and heads for the bedroom to get dressed. All morning, she's been padding around in Castle's t-shirt, and she strips it over her head and drops it into the laundry drawer they've got going, pulls on shorts and a tank top. Her hair is getting a little gross - she's been so distracted with caring for her partner that she hasn't had time to wash it - and she winds it into a braid, lets it hang over one shoulder.

Sitting on the end of the twin bed, Kate puts on socks and then stays for a moment, forearms braced against her thighs and her head bowed. After a cleansing breath, another, she stands and heads for the entryway, slipping into her sneakers and collecting her sunglasses from the shelf beside the door.

A few steps back towards the living space and she can see him, still on the couch exactly where she left him. Kate clears her throat and he turns to see her, a smile spreading across his face immediately. Guilt churns in her stomach and she slips a hand into her pocket, tries to look normal. "Bye, Castle. I won't be too long."

"Okay. Bye," he says easily, chin propped against the back of the couch to watch her disappear again into the entryway.

Kate collects the car keys and heads outside, even just the act of closing the front door on him making the knots in her shoulders come loose. She'll take this time to get herself together, stop being so selfish, and when she comes home again she'll curl up with her partner because she actually wants to.

For the drive into town she rolls down her window to let the fresh air fill the Buick, cranks up the radio loud enough that she can hear it over the roar of the engine and the whip of the breeze. It eases something inside her, the act of driving giving her back some control, and by the time she turns into the parking lot of the grocery store she feels like herself again.

It's good, to have a little time away from him, but have it still be centred around taking care of him. It reminds her of how lucky she is, that when she goes home it will be to somebody who loves her, someone who will kiss her hello and gobble up any shred of herself she offers up to him.

That was what she wanted all along, why she put in the work, and she won't let her need for alone time ruin things. If she does this right, savours this time at the grocery store and lets it heal her, Castle will never even have to know.

Inside the grocery store her skin erupts with gooseflesh, the AC up high and she shivers, folds her arms over her chest in the pharmaceutical aisle. Scanning the shelves, Kate picks up Benadryl and more calamine lotion, adds them to the basket secured in the crook of her elbow.

Wandering the aisles, she adds more oatmeal for his baths to her basket, some cocoa and marshmallows. At the bakery counter, she collects a fresh loaf of bread and then she heads for the cash register to pay for everything. The teenage boy at the counter rouses when she gets there, a wide smile peeling apart at the seam of his mouth, and it transforms his face into something so familiar.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," the kid says, his hands slow and careful with her groceries as he rings them up and packs them neatly into a bag for her.

Her brow furrows a little and she tilts her head, tries not to be too obvious in her staring. And then he turns his head a certain way and the line of his profile makes her gasp, clasped hands pressed over her heart. 'You're Joe's grandson. Alfie, right?"

"That's me," he grins, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. "You're Miss Beckett."

"It's Kate," she laughs, shaking her head. The last time she saw the kid he had been toddling around their ankles, absolutely infatuated with Kate's mother so that he crawled up into Johanna's lap, chubby fingers tugging at her hair. "I'm surprised you're not working at the diner."

Alfie shakes his head, passing her bag of groceries over the top of the register. "Grandpa didn't want me to get an easy shoe-in. Said I could only have the job if I applied like everybody else, and I figured if I was going to have to put in the effort, I might as well apply someplace I actually wanted to work."

"Fair enough," Kate laughs, sliding her card free from her wallet and handing it over. "Do I need to sign."

"No ma'am, it's less than twenty five bucks," Alfie smiles, handing her card back to her. Pushing it back into its slot, Kate snaps her wallet closed and drops it in the bag with the groceries. "It was really great to see you, Kate. I'll tell Grandpa I did."

An easy smile curves at her mouth and Kate nods, pushes her sunglasses back down to cover her eyes. "It was good to see you too, Alfie. Give Joe my love."

"Will do," the kid says and Kate gives him a final dip of her head before she leaves the store. It's so much warmer outside, away from the grocery store's AC, and she swipes a hand against the back of her neck as she heads for the car. Kate pops the trunk and puts the grocery bag down, collecting her purse from inside before she closes the trunk again. The diner is just across the street and she's craving a milkshake, already tasting the cool, sweet delight of it.

She needs to get home to her partner, but if she takes an extra few minutes and comes back with a milkshake for him, she's sure he won't mind so much. In the diner, Kate orders one strawberry and one chocolate milkshake to go, swivelling back and forth on one of the high stools at the counter while she waits.

Joe isn't around today, has always taken Monday as his day off, and she doesn't recognise any of the other staff milling around. It's kind of nice to be anonymous, to sit here without a face from her past resurfacing and reminding her of what she's lost.

Everyone in this town knew her mother, and although it's wonderful to be able to share memories of Johanna every so often, it's like sandpaper to the raw edge of grief inside her. She loves that about Rick; he's always willing to listen to the stories she wants to tell, and he always knows when it's time to distract her instead.

The waitress comes back with the milkshakes and Kate pays, leaves a generous tip and smiles in response to the girl's thanks. Being with Castle has definitely made her more altruistic, his habit of wishing everyone he comes across a good day starting to rub off on her, and Kate picks up her pace a little on her way back to the car.

Even though she was pretty desperate to get out of the house and have some alone time, she misses him. They've spent so much time together these past few weeks that his absence is grating, means she has to be constantly aware of that gaping hole and orient herself around it.

She sets both milkshakes in the car's cupholder and cranks the AC up high, ignoring the eruption of gooseflesh across her skin in favour of keeping the milkshakes cold. When she makes it back to the cabin she struggles a little, almost dropping one of the shakes as she tries to juggle the two cups and the grocery bag with her wallet, keys and phone.

A wall of silence rears up to meet her when she gets inside and Kate dumps everything on the kitchen counter, toeing out of her sneakers and heading in search of her partner. Poking her head around the bathroom door, she sees that the tub is full but not freshly so, no steam curling up from the water.

Kate finds him in the bedroom, sitting up against the headboard with his laptop balanced against his thighs and a little frown puckering his forehead. His fingers work furiously over the keys, a little pause every so often before he stabs at the backspace button, and Kate leans a hip against the doorframe and watches him work.

After a while he seems to get to a good stopping place, pulling his eyes away from the laptop screen and scanning the room. He glides right over her at the door and then does a double take, setting the computer aside and climbing out of bed to join her in the doorway. "You're home. I didn't hear you come in."

"You looked pretty focused," Kate smiles, accepting his kiss when he leans in close, sliding her arms around his neck. Her tongue slips leisurely past his lips and she flirts with him a little, darting close only to withdraw again. It makes him groan and he pulls away, rests his forehead against hers and breathes heavily across her cheek. "You need to take some Benadryl. And I got you a milkshake."

"You did?" he grins, boyish excitement softening his face, and he tangles his fingers with hers, nudges her towards the living room. Kate makes a detour to the kitchen island to collect both of the milkshakes and then she returns to join him at the couch, hands his over. "Thanks. How was your trip into town?"

"Pretty good. You remember Joe from the diner? Well, it was his grandson who rang me up at the store. I hadn't seen him since he was about three."

Castle chuckles at that, drawing a leg up underneath himself and twisting on the couch to face her more fully. His lips pucker around the straw, cheeks hollowing as he sucks and he hums, eyes fluttering closed at the flavour. "You really do know everyone around here, huh?"

"Not everyone, but a lot of people, yeah."

"They all seem to really love you," he says quietly, reaching for her hand to tangle their fingers together. His thumb strokes over the back of her hand and he smiles at her, proud and overwhelming so that she has to duck her head away from his gaze and sip at her shake to cool the flush in her cheeks.

After they've both finished their drinks, Kate stands up from the couch and collects his empty cup, moving to the kitchen to put them both in the trash and grab the grocery bag, bringing it and a small glass of water back over to him and sinking down to sit at his side. "Here, take some Benadryl."

"What else did you get?" he asks, squeezing two capsules out into his palm and swallowing them down with a gulp of the water, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. It distracts her for a second, his lips always so enticing, and Kate shakes her head a little to clear the fog of lust.

"More oatmeal for your baths, and some cocoa and marshmallows. I thought maybe we could sit by the fire tonight?"

His smile is wide and easy, his fingers curled around her knee, and Kate covers his hand with her own and hopes he feels the apology he doesn't even realise she owes him. "Sounds great."

"I also got fresh bread. I thought we could have some with soup for lunch, if you'd like. How's your appetite?"

"Starting to come back, I think," he says, playing with her fingers now. He's gotten dressed while she was gone and the material of his shirt clings to his chest, his biceps, makes her want to touch.

Well, she's allowed to do that now. Kate reaches out and skims her fingertips along the edge of his arm and up, flirting with the dip of his clavicle before she slips down to lay her palm over his heart. How foolish of her to ever want to be away from him. He makes everything so easy, makes her feel like she could laze on the couch for the rest of her life.

"Do you want to eat now?" she hums, drumming her fingers softly against the muscle of his pectoral. His eyes come slowly open and he leans in until their foreheads kiss, his nose nudging hers as well. It's this closeness she wanted to escape from, and this closeness that makes tears of gratitude burn at the back of her eyes.

"No, not yet," he murmurs, his arms tight around her shoulders and drawing her closer until she winds up in his lap, curled up against his chest like a child. "Just sit with me."

* * *

"Kate," he says, coming to the french doors and leaning his hip against the frame. His girlfriend is curled up in the adirondack chair with her book and a mug of coffee, and he has to wait a moment before she gets to a good stopping place and lifts her head to see him.

He'd been writing, scenes welling from his fingertips again after lunch, and she had ushered him away, promised she would entertain herself. She looks serene and lovely out here, her skin brushed gold under the sun's kiss, and she tucks her finger into the book so that she doesn't lose her place. "What's up?"

"I'm gonna take another bath. Will you sit with me?"

She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head and covering her eyes with a hand, teeth sinking into her lip. He understands that Beckett values her space, that she doesn't crave his presence the way he does her, but that doesn't mean he won't at least ask. "No, Castle, I won't. It's nice out here. I'm comfortable."

"Oh," he says, hope abandoning him in a great rush and making him sag, a hand flat to the glass of the french door to stay standing. "Right."

"Your baths are only ten minutes," she says softly, her voice measured to soothe and it makes anger swell in his chest suddenly. He doesn't want to be handled, doesn't want her to treat him like a child.

"It's fine, Beckett. Whatever."

He stalks away from her, back inside the house, but he hovers like an idiot outside the bathroom door, waiting to see if she follows. Of course she doesn't, no soft pad of footsteps approaching, so he moves into the bathroom and closes the door entirely, leans back against it.

The water has already cooled, so Rick strips out of his clothes and dumps them in a pile on the floor, unlocking his phone to start the ten minute timer before he climbs into the tub. He does feel better now that he's had the Benadryl, but irritation makes his skin prickle and he's grateful for the cool, milky water of the oatmeal bath.

He stays there, eyes closed, until the timer goes off and then he gets out and pulls the plug, wraps a towel around his waist. Her rejection strips him raw, and once he's dressed he goes to the bedroom to curl up around the aching places. His laptop sits closed on the bed beside him and he scowls at it, pushes it further away. He doesn't want to write anymore. He wanted to spend time with Kate, was hoping he'd be able to charm her right in to the bath with him, but that's clearly not going to happen.

Everything had been going so well for them, and even with the poison ivy he was so stupidly happy. He really should have known it couldn't last. When has Kate Beckett ever been a caretaker, ever had the patience to put up with his whining? Of course she'd get frustrated with him and grapple for space.

Rick stays in the bedroom while dusk collects outside, the sky ribboned with patches of deeper blue that bleed out into darkness. He scans through some of what he wrote earlier, but reading about Nikki and Rook's happiness when he's so frustrated just makes his jaw tick with anger.

He doesn't trust himself to go and see what she's doing, can't handle it if she sends him away, so he gets up and heads for the kitchen, turning on every light as he goes. Kate doesn't like to have the cabin lit up so brilliantly, hates the way it makes every insect in the area migrate towards the house, but he doesn't much care what Kate likes right now. He needs the lights on, hopes it'll jostle him out of this funk he's sinking into for no good reason.

Mostly the itching, he expects. Being sick or hurt always makes him grizzly, and he's even been known to snap at his baby girl when things are really bad, so it makes sense that he's annoyed with Kate. He's annoyed with everything right now.

Perusing the refrigerator and the cabinets he's entirely uninspired and he grunts, heads back to the door to find Beckett. She hasn't moved, her book closed now and her mug empty but her legs still curled up underneath herself. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't mind," she says without turning to look at him, her eyes firmly fixed on the vast swathe of shadow that the lake becomes as night falls.

Castle huffs a breath and folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorframe. She's stunning like this, darkness licking at the hollow places under her cheekbones and making her striking and foreign to him, but he's still annoyed. "Well I can't think of anything to make."

"I'll help," Kate murmurs, standing from the adirondack chair and collecting her novel and her cup from the little table, carrying them both into the house with her. She squeezes past him, the bulk of his body obstructing most of the doorway, and where she might normally press close and kiss his mouth she is instead careful not to touch him at all.

He's irrationally frustrated with her, and she can tell and it's making her irritated with him, both of them feeding into the cesspit of passive aggression that is only going to fester unless they acknowledge it, hash it out.

"Am I allowed to be near you now?"

"Castle," she sighs, turning to face him with the sink at her back, her body leaning against the edge of the kitchen countertop. "It wasn't that I didn't want you near me."

He scoffs at that, rolling his eyes and yanking open the refrigerator with more force than is at all necessary, not exactly sure of what he's hoping to find inside. "Oh no? Because you sure made it sound that way."

"Rick," she says softly, and she pads towards him and settles a hand between his shoulder blades. The warm weight of her touch is always soothing, even when he's feeling childish and stubborn, and he bows his head. "I always want you near me. But that doesn't mean that we can't survive without each other for an hour or so."

"I don't _want_ to survive without you," he moans, turning and wrapping his arms tight around her in one fluid motion. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, temple to his throat and a shaky sigh escapes him as his mouth comes to touch the pale line of her scalp.

Her hands are splayed at his back now and she walks him away from the refrigerator, pushes it closed and then nudges him to lean against it instead, the length of her body pinning him in place. "Castle, we have to be able to be apart. I don't want us to become _that couple_."

"But I'm sick," he says, his voice a small and pitiful thing. Her fingers card through his hair and she tugs back to look at him, her free hand at his cheek. "I want you close."

"I'm right here. And you know I'll always be here when you really need me. But you were just taking a bath, babe. You don't need me for that."

The endearment sends a frisson of pleasure through him and he shivers, clutches at her a little tighter. "I want you to have space. I don't want you to hate me. But I want you with me. We have to compromise."

"I know," she murmurs, leaning in again until her forehead meets his, pressed so close that their skulls crunch when she shifts. "I'd never hate you. We were handcuffed together for hours and I didn't hate you then, so I'm pretty sure we can survive any proximity."

He knows she's searching for his laughter and he gives freely, chuckling at her and letting his eyes close for a moment. "I'm sorry. I was being childish."

"You're allowed to be childish. You're hurting," she assures him, stepping back and resting both palms against his chest. "Castle, I'm going to want space sometimes. That's just part of who I am. But it doesn't mean I'm going anywhere, okay?"

"Okay," he says quietly, but he's really not sure he's happy about that at all.

A frown creases in between Kate's brows and she tilts her head, regarding him for a moment. "Maybe I'll take a bath, or maybe I'll go to the store or I'll run in the park or I'll meet Lanie for coffee, but you don't have to worry about it. Because I'm always gonna come back. I promise."

"You can't promise that," he mutters, remembering all over again the summer he thought he lost her, the summer he didn't hear from her at all and every day he wondered if maybe her heart had given out and she was gone. "Something could happen to you."

"Okay. Then I promise that I'll never stop fighting to make it home to you."

His shoulders sag with relief and he draws her in close to his chest, keeps his arms tight around her. He went into this knowing who Kate is, knowing that she's not the kind of woman who will fawn over him and want to spend every moment of her day with him.

It's why he loves her, and he would never want her to compromise who she is to make him happy. "Kate, if you need space, you just have to tell me. I can go write, let you do your own thing."

"It's usually not worth upsetting you over," she says gently, her forehead resting against the side of his throat so that she must feel the fervent pound of gratitude. "I can just take a shower or go for a walk to recalibrate."

"I won't get upset," he assures her, sneaking his hand up underneath the clinging material of her tank top to splay at the curve of her spine, his thumb making a sweeping arc back and forth over her vertebrae. "I'm happy that we're strong enough to be able to say _you're really annoying me right now_ and it not be catastrophic."

He feels the bloom of her smirk before she pulls away to show it to him, head tilted to the side and her eyes bright with mischief. "Oh, am I annoying you?"

"Not anymore," he laughs and Kate rolls her eyes at him, swatting lightly at his chest.

"I really need to wash my hair," she sighs, lifting her braid away from her shoulder as if to inspect it. He curls his fingers around the end and tugs lightly, feels for a moment like an elephant with his trunk holding on to her tail.

Rick lets her go, laying her braid down carefully and smoothing his fingers over it before he drops his hand. "How about you go shower and I'll think of something for dinner?"

"Okay," she nods, coming in close again to slide both arms around his neck and kiss him. He opens up to her and lets her tongue slick inside, palms sliding down to her ass to squeeze there, hoist her against him. His hips rock in the cradle of hers and when she breaks away from his mouth he groans, panting into her cheek. "I need to shower. Then food. Then this."

"You drive a hard bargain, woman," he grumbles, but he feels so much lighter now that they've talked, now that he's had his little tantrum. He feels good from his bath and the Benadryl, and already his skin looks a little better; the improvement shakes him right out of his funk.

Kate disappears towards the shower and he tracks through the rest of the cabin to turn off all the lights, leaving only the overhead spots in the kitchen still lit. He cooks chicken and pasta, adds peas and broccoli and handfuls of grated cheese and sets the dish in the oven to bake.

While it does so, he collects candles from the bathroom and sets them in the middle of the dining table instead, lights them with the matches from the fireplace. He pours a glass of wine for her and some water for himself, takes their dinner out of the oven when the timer beeps at him.

Once he's plated the food he heads through to Kate's childhood bedroom, only just noticing the roar of a hair dryer. She hates sleeping on wet hair, hates leaving it to hang limp against her cheeks at all, and when he comes into the room she turns the dryer off and unplugs it, steps closer to him.

"Dinner's ready," he says, fascinated by the voluminous spill of her hair, her legs so long in those tiny camouflage shorts.

"It smells fantastic," she grins, sliding her hand into his and walking at his side back into the living space. He turned off the kitchen lights, so only a single lamp over by the couch and the candles he found light the room. His partner gasps beside him, free hand flying up to cover her mouth and she turns to look at him with her eyes wide and fathoms deep. "This is amazing."

He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug, squeezing her fingers in his and pulling her chair out, guiding her to sit. "I wanted to apologise."

"You don't have anything to apologise for," she says immediately, frowning at him when he sits down opposite her. Kate reaches across the table to tangle their fingers together, something ferocious rising in her that makes him lean back in his chair, his lungs struggling against emptiness. "Castle, I promised to take care of you, and then I wanted space. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Neither did you," he says fervently, can't bear the idea of Kate blaming herself for just being who she is. He holds her gaze for a moment, but he can't think of anything to say he hasn't already told her, and after a moment the urgency drains out of him. "Eat your dinner, Beckett."

She nods, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork and popping it into her mouth. They eat in comfortable silence, the noise of the evening woods enough to fill the air, and only when her plate is clean does she come around to his side of the table and hold her hand out to him.

"Castle," she hums, all heat and devastating seduction and he swallows, drops his fork with a clatter. He takes the hand she offers and allows her to pull him to his feet, her body smooth and viscous in his grip. "Take me to bed. Let me show you how I want you."

"Yes, yeah," he splutters, tripping over his own stupid feet in his haste to follow after her. By the time he makes it to the bedroom she's already stretched out in the middle of the sheets, body supported on her elbows so she can watch him approach, and a sly smile splits her mouth.

He crawls up onto the bed and right over her, careful to keep the weight of his body from crushing her even as his hips jerk down towards hers and her palms come to his shoulders, tugging on him. "Don't. I'll squash you."

"No you won't," she breathes against his mouth, hooking a leg high up at his thigh and yanking until he sprawls, his chest pressed to hers. "I told you. I want you close."


	17. Chapter 17

**Living is Easy**

* * *

"How are you feeling?" she asks when he emerges from the bedroom, padding in bare feet outside to find her sitting on the porch. When she woke up it was already brilliantly hot, and the lake called to her to come and sit on the dock, dangle her feet in the water. She wanted to stay close after yesterday, so Kate had ignored the urge and settled on the back porch instead, but she's hopeful they can spend a lazy morning paddling together.

Castle comes to sit in the chair beside hers, reaching across the gap for her hand and lacing their fingers together. His legs look less swollen now, the redness already starting to fade, and she's grateful for the Benadryl and the calamine lotion. "Much better. How'd you sleep?"

"Heavily," she laughs, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and look at him. He's always a little rumpled first thing in the morning, takes a while to warm up to being awake, and it makes the edge of his jaw softer. So many times now, she's raked her teeth over that precipice, put the flat of her tongue to his stubble. "You wore me out."

That makes him leer at her, although there's a lack of commitment to it as if he doesn't quite have the energy for the teasing he truly wants to do. He sighs and rakes a hand over his face, jaw unhinging on a yawn. "I need coffee. Want some?"

"Yes please," she smiles, standing up from her chair and holding both her hands out to him, hauling him to his feet. "I'll help you make it."

They wander into the house together, hand in hand, and she feels so much lighter today. The way he had reacted to her need for space was terrifying, made the claws of panic clutch at her throat, but now she understands that it was the poison ivy making him clingy and whiny. Castle, or his non-sick self anyway, doesn't resent her for needing her alone time, and relief is still lapping at the shores of her heart.

In the kitchen, Castle looks out filters and coffee grounds and Kate dances easily around his body, collecting mugs and creamer for them, the little bottle of vanilla syrup. While the machine percolates, her partner nudges her up against the kitchen island and his hips work their way into the cradle of hers, arms tight around her waist.

His mouth hovers at her throat, the very tip of his tongue darting out to touch her skin where her pulse thunders and she shivers, lacing her arms around his neck. His weight presses everywhere, always so warm, and the dichotomy of the counter's cool press against her spine brings her entire body to sharp attention.

"Castle," she pants, clutching at his shoulder as his thigh nudges between her legs. "I'm sorry for yesterday."

He goes still immediately, her words a medusa gaze and he tugs back a little to see her. Hands come up to frame her face, still not quite awake yet and his touch is jerky, disconnected. "What are you apologising for? You didn't do anything."

"I did. It was all about what I want, again. It wouldn't have cost me anything to sit with you."

"You're joking, right?" he grumps at her, his thumb's sweep back and forth along her cheekbone drugging, making her list into him. "Kate, you'd done nothing but sit with me for days. You're allowed to need a break."

A small sigh escapes her and she ducks her head until her forehead rests against his sternum, always seeking him out as her shelter. His arms stay tight around her, wide palms splaying to cover the stretch of her back, and she dusts a kiss to the skin that the deep vee of his pajama shirt exposes at his neck. "Still, I could have been a little nicer about it."

"Don't do this, Beckett," he murmurs, the hot again and again touch of his mouth to the crown of her head making her shiver. "You _were_ nice. I just got my feelings hurt, but that's not your fault. It's supposed to be about you sometimes, Kate, that's how this works. It's a give and take."

"Okay," she nods, swallowing back the ridiculous clog of emotion and lifting her head to see him. His mouth comes to meet hers in these soft little touches that never seem to linger, as if he's sipping at her. "But I'm still sorry."

That makes him chuckle and a hand slides up to rest against the back of her neck, her hair spilling over his knuckles as he smiles down at her. "I accept your apology, and I forgive you."

"Good," she laughs, dropping her hands from his waist when the machine beeps at them to signal that it's finished. Kate steps around the hulk of his body and collects the glass jug from under the coffee machine, pours a mug for each of them.

Her partner uses the creamer first, while she pours in the vanilla, and she takes the container from him when he's finished, sliding her fingers along his as she does. Once both their drinks are fixed up she follows him back outside into the warmth of the day and sets her mug down on the little table, freeing her hands so she can tie her hair up off her neck.

"Hey," he says, and she turns to look at him, wrapping both hands around her mug and holding it close to her chest. "Is Tilly still coming for dinner tonight?"

"Yep," she nods, eyes fluttering closed as she takes a drink of coffee. She always likes that first sip to be scalding, almost burning her tongue and she sighs at the taste and the heat both. "As far as I know it's just her. I don't think her dad can make it."

Castle smiles easily and reaches for his own mug, one hand curled around it as he balances it against his knee. He won't drink yet; he never wants to risk scalding himself. Leaning her head back against the seat, Kate watches him in the easy silence of the woods. He looks so good like this, away from the noise of the city, and she never would have guessed that her partner would mellow into the quiet and solitude.

"Do you know what you're gonna cook?"

"Not yet," Kate shakes her head, setting her half empty coffee mug back down on the table beside her and lacing her fingers, her knee resting between her palms. "I'm gonna have to run back into town for ingredients regardless, so it doesn't really matter what I choose."

For a moment her partner is quiet, nodding to himself a little, and then he glances over at her with a smile, his face soft and entirely without expectation. "Can I help you cook?"

"I was kind of hoping you would," she laughs, two fingers coming up to trace the curve of her smile. An elbow propped against the arm of her chair, Kate rests her chin in the cup of her hand and watches him, her eyes scrunched almost closed with adoration. "You're much better than me."

"I think there comes a time when experience outweighs any natural incapability," he explains, reaching across the space between their chairs to stroke a fingertip along the length of her forearm. "I had to learn to cook properly for my daughter, but there was a lot of trial and error before I figured out what I'm doing."

Kate chuckles at that, imagining a younger Castle accidentally burning dinner and ordering a pizza instead for his tiny daughter. "What about duck? It's a little more interesting, right?"

"Sure," her partner grins, enthusiasm pushing him to sit up in his chair a little straighter. "I have this recipe for duck with potatoes and Savoy cabbage that only uses one pan. It's super easy, but it tastes great, if you think Tilly would like that?"

"I think she'd love it. Can you make a list?" she says, drumming her feet against the sun-baked wood of the back deck. They're heading back to New York tomorrow, and she doesn't know how she's going to survive the claustrophobia of the city. It always takes her a little while to adjust; she wakes up in her apartment wanting to swim and hike in the forest, crushed every day by the glass and concrete grit of home.

Castle nods at her, boyish delight making his face light and ever-shifting. "Course I can. When did you want to head into town?"

"I don't mind. Whenever we're both ready, I guess."

"Okay," he shrugs, rubbing his palms over his thighs before he stands up from his chair and collects both of their mugs. "I'm gonna shower then."

Kate tilts her head up to receive his kiss, one hand resting at the side of his neck, and she half wants to tug him back down over her, maybe waste a little time this morning. He keeps their kiss fleeting, pulls away from the touch of her tongue at the seam of his lips, and she sighs when he straightens and leaves her to sink back into the chair.

"Enjoy your shower," she hums as he disappears inside the house, stretching her legs out in front of herself and crossing them at the ankles. There are strange, pale lines across the tops of her feet, tan lines from the sandals she wore a few days ago and she laughs, wiggling her toes. Being here makes her feel like a little girl again, overflowing with joy, and Kate gets to her feet to move inside the cabin.

She wants to be close to him, even while he's in the shower. Kate busies herself with cleaning the kitchen, washing some of the dishes piled up in the sink and wiping down the counters. When they leave tomorrow they'll have to make sure the cabin is clean and tidy, and if she can get most of the work done now then they'll be able to enjoy their last morning here properly.

After a handful of minutes, she hears the water shutting off and the muffled sounds of her partner coming out of the shower and drying off, getting dressed. Kate wanders through to the bedroom and finds him kneeling by the drawer in the dresser with his clothes in it, suitcase open beside him.

"Hey," he glances up at her, wet hair tumbling all over his forehead and a few little patches of damp in his t-shirt where he didn't quite dry properly. "I was thinking I'd make a start on packing now, so I don't have to do it tomorrow."

"Good plan," she says, kneeling down at his side to inspect the drawer. He's got a pair of shorts and a t-shirt still in there, along with clean underwear and socks, but everything else is dumped in a pile on the floor.

He finishes folding a shirt and lays it flat in the bottom of the suitcase, turning to glance at her before he rummages through the pile to find another. "Are you gonna shower too?"

"Are you saying I need to?" she teases, jostling him with the nudge of her elbow into his bicep and he growls, both arms sliding around her to guide her to the floor.

Kate stretches out underneath him, her hips coming up to rock against his and his mouth seeks hers, teeth nibbling at her bottom lip before he slicks his tongue inside. Her fingers dig into the thick muscle of his shoulder and she hooks a leg over his thigh, not even caring about the crunch of her skull against the wood floor every time she moves her head. "I don't care if you shower or not, Beckett. I'm gonna love you anyway."

"Even if I start to stink?" she lifts an eyebrow at him, arching her neck to chase his mouth and steal another kiss from him.

When her lips touch his he pulls back from her, supporting his weight with his forearms either side of her head so he can stare down at her and he frowns. "Do you need me to stop saying that?"

"Saying what?"

"That I love you."

Kate sits up so fast that she knocks her forehead hard into his and he yelps, rearing away from her and lifting a hand to clutch at his temple. The crack of their skulls resonates through her brain, makes her vision blur for a second, but she's so surprised by him that she hardly notices. "What are you talking about?"

"I've said it quite a lot by now," he shrugs, folding his legs underneath himself and dropping his hand from his head to let her better see his face. "And you've never said it back. Which is fine, I get it, I just don't want it to be uncomfortable for you."

"Castle," she whispers, her heart a sticky and malleable thing. Knee-walking across the floor to get to him, Kate laces her arms around his neck and kisses him fiercely, desperation making her sloppy as her open mouth meets his and her tongue pushes inside. He rises against her until his chest presses tight to hers and she pulls her mouth from his on a gasp. "No. No, I don't want you to stop saying it. Please don't stop."

He tugs the tie free from her hair and it comes tumbling down her back in a great torrent, his fingers already carding through it and arranging the ends over her shoulders. "I won't stop, Kate. I waited long enough to be able to say those words to you. I'll remind you of it every day if you want me to."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she wails, smudging her mouth to his again before she lets her head drop heavy onto his chest, her eyes screwed tightly closed and the bone of her socket pressed to the hard curve of his shoulder. "I want to say it back to you."

"You don't have to," he breathes against her temple, his hands everywhere at once as if he doesn't know whether to soothe or seduce her. "I already know. It's in everything you do. Every time you touch me, I know you feel the same way that I do."

A shaky breath escapes from the pit of her belly and Kate lifts her head to see him, palms against his cheeks and her mouth seeking at his bottom lip. The kiss she takes from him is rich with adoration and adrenaline both, her sudden panic that he doesn't know she loves him overwhelming so that she can't do more than sip from his mouth. "You're a writer. You deserve the words. It's just been such a long time since I've given them to anyone."

"I don't want you to say it because you feel like you have to," he says carefully, easing himself away from her until he's standing and she's here on the floor at his feet, rotten and groaning. "Take a shower, Kate. We can talk more after."

She manages a nod, her neck thin as razor wire, and it's a wonder she can lift her head at all. Of course she's noticed that he keeps saying it; there's always a swell of momentary panic before she deflects with a kiss or a swift subject change. The words don't have positive connotations for her anymore, and she's so afraid that when she finally manages to say them it will be a doomsday toll for their relationship.

Kate gets to her feet and pads through to the bathroom, closing the door behind herself and stripping out of her pajamas to leave them dumped in a heap on the tile. In the stall, the water cascades over her head and she cries for the hurt she knows she's caused him, for the things she's lost in the past that make her such a fragile, broken creature now.

By the time she's washed her hair and shaved the tears have stemmed somewhat, but her face feels at once puffy and taut, like her skin is stretched too tight over the bones of her face, so she turns the water down cold and stands under the stream, allows it to soothe. When she gets out of the shower she's careful to avoid the mirror, wrapping her hair up into a towel and slipping on a tank top and a skirt that swishes around her knees, makes her feel girlish and smitten.

Head tipped upside down, Kate wrings as much of the water from her hair as she can and straightens again, winds it into a braid. She got it cut in the first week they were together, some shorter layers into it, and she loves the way it frames her face and makes Castle look so delighted with her, hands coming to her cheeks in echo.

She finds him outside, all the way down by the dock with his back against one of the mooring posts and his toes in the water. He's got a baseball cap and sunglasses on as if he's trying to go incognito and she smiles, sinking down to sit at his side and letting her feet drop down into the lake. The water is cool and lovely, slipping between her toes and she sighs, falling sideways until her cheek meets his bicep.

"Castle, the last person I said those words to was Sorenson," she admits softly, feeling his entire body go stiff next to her. She doesn't mean to hurt him with bringing up her ex, but it's important that he understand. "He was packing to go to Boston, and I was. . .trying not to cry. Trying to be the serious, stoic person he thought he was dating."

Her partner twists to the side to look at her then, his forehead puckered into a frown, and Kate grapples for his hand. "I still don't understand how he was stupid enough to leave you."

"His job was so important to him. I understand that, and I did then too. But it hurt. I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me too, but it wasn't enough to make him stay."

"Kate," he says, grief blackening his words, and he hauls her against his chest in a fierce embrace, his fingers pressing into the muscles of her shoulders. "I'm sorry he hurt you."

Her hands sneak under the material of his shirt and she strokes her fingertips over that soft skin at his sides as if she's collecting cobwebs, working to soothe the little tremors of tension that rattle through him.

"Rick. I thought I loved Sorenson, and Royce, because I didn't know. I didn't know what it could be like to really be in love with someone and be completely committed to them. I thought I loved them, before I knew how it would be to love you."

A sob of emotion escapes him and then he's kissing her, one hand in her hair and the other at her jaw to angle her into him. The hint of salt and anguish lingers and she works to dilute it, strokes her tongue along the ridges of his teeth.

"I love you," she gasps, breaking away from his mouth only to let her lips form a shadow of a kiss at his cheek instead. "Rick. I'm so in love with you."

It feels so good to say the words. A shuddering breath escapes her, the last vestiges of her crying jag in the shower and her face breaks open on a wide grin, her cheeks aching with the sheer force of her joy even as it buoys her, makes her clutch at him to keep herself tethered. To him, anyway; she doesn't much care about the ground.

"I love you too," he says back, his lashes clinging together and darker than she's ever seen them. His kiss comes determined to meet her but their teeth clash, both of them smiling so big that the touch of their mouths disintegrates.

His hands are wide and purposeful either side of her hips and he drags her on top of him, chokes on a groan when she sinks down. He's always so sweet, so attentive, but she loves when it gets like this. Frantic and breathless, open mouth seeking and fingers against bare skin.

"Oh," she sighs when his mouth comes to her neck, his tongue licking a hot stripe that he follows with the gentle scrape of teeth, his lips closing around her earlobe. "I love that, too."

"We have to move inside," he grunts, his hips jerking shallowly against hers as if in imitation of what will come later. Both of his hands are fisted in the bottom of her tank top and he's drawing it slowly up the length of her spine; Kate reaches between them and palms him in retaliation, mouth at his throat as he cries out. "Beckett. Kate. Need you."

The velvet thread of desire in his voice makes her shudder and she sits back a little on his thighs, her palms at his chest for balance. "I need you too. But we don't have to go inside. Who's gonna see?"

"Bug bites?" he offers weakly and she smirks, comes back in to nibble at the soft lobe of his ear, working to discover that feral moan he has for her.

"I don't care about bug bites. I want you right now."

He growls at that, chasing her mouth and palming her ass to slide her along his thighs and nestle her in the cradle of his hips, his grip tight to keep her there. "I love you, Beckett."

"I know," she laughs, clinging to his ears so that the rock of his body against hers doesn't tip her right off of him. Tipping her head towards the sky a moment, she sucks a breath of clean mountain air into her lungs and lets it back out on a sigh, surprised to find herself here in this moment. "I love you, too."

* * *

He's giddy all the rest of the morning. Oh, he does try to tamper it down as much as he can, but Kate lets him keep hold of her hand for as long as he wants to, so as they wander through the aisles of the grocery store he swings the knot of their fingers between their bodies and steals little kisses from her.

Whenever she's distracted reading the back of a box or consulting their shopping list he swoops in to brush his mouth to hers. And the best part? Every time, she lifts up a little into his kiss and when he pulls away again she smiles and ducks her head as if she's suddenly shy around him now that he knows for sure she loves him.

He never doubted, not really, but it's so good to hear the words. Especially when he knows how much it took for her to share them with him. "Hey Kate?"

"Hmm?" she turns over her shoulder to look at him, both hands wrapped around a cabbage as if to protect it and her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip as she considers the list she has trapped between two fingers.

"What about dessert?"

A frown puckers in her forehead and she sets the cabbage down into the basket he's holding, folding the little piece of paper with the list on it and tucking it into the front pocket of his shorts for safekeeping. Even though he _just_ had her right before they came into town, that shadow of a touch is enough to make him suck in a breath and grit his teeth. She notices, but she doesn't acknowledge him with more than the lift of her eyebrow, arms folded across her chest now. "I don't know. I forgot about dessert."

"Alexis and I made these salted caramel and chocolate pots not too long ago that were really good. Easy enough, but I think they'd impress Tilly."

"I'm not looking to impress her, Castle," she laughs, but he waits her out with his hands in his pockets and his face kept carefully blank until he gets a sigh from her and an eye roll directed mostly at herself. "Okay, maybe I am a little bit. Do you remember the ingredients?"

He pulls his phone free from his pocket and unlocks it, thumbing through the camera roll until he finds what he's looking for. "I have screenshots of the recipe."

"I love you," she beams, framing his face in her hands and stretching up on tiptoe in her flip-flops to kiss him properly. That's the fourth time in only a handful of hours, and he wonders if he'll ever stop feeling it like this, the slam of his heart against his ribcage and joy cascading through him. "Come on then, let's get the stuff."

After the grocery store they visit the independent butcher in town, a man a little older than Rick whom Kate doesn't seem to know. He figured it was impossible for her to know every single person in the town, but this is the first time their visit to the cash register hasn't involved five or ten minutes of Kate reminiscing with someone from her past.

As much as he loves those little snatches of her history, loves the way everybody who knows her seems to come alive at her presence, he's glad for the ease and the speed of their transaction now. He wants to get her back to the cabin and convince her to come to bed with him. Maybe after they've made the dessert, so they can use the time they have to wait for it to chill to work up an appetite.

In the car he's fidgety, has to sit on his hands so he doesn't mess with the radio and annoy her. His feet drum against the floor of the car but he's not sure that she notices. Whether she does or not, she's still smiling when she pulls into the driveway, and when he climbs out of the car and comes around to meet her at the trunk she dusts a kiss to his cheek before she reaches inside for half of the shopping bags.

They make a great team. He's always known that, always loved being at the precinct with her because they work so well together; being around Kate makes him feel unstoppable. Over the course of these past few weeks of being with her, he's come to learn that they fit just as easily outside of work. In the kitchen they move around one another to put the groceries away, a dance that has him tugged back to her over and over again but never clashing, never getting in her way.

Once everything is safely put away he reaches for her and reels her in, one hand reaching low to flirt with the hem of her skirt. Kate's thighs press against his and she shivers, stretching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

He kisses her slowly, walking her backwards until she meets the counter and he gets his hands at her thighs and lifts, slides her back to sit on the surface. Her legs wrap around his hips and her back arches so that her chest brushes his.

"Mm, Kate," he sighs, tipsy with want and love both and she giggles, burying her face at his neck. The wash of hot breath makes him groan and he takes a reluctant step back to see her, plants his hands firmly on the countertop. "We should make the dessert. It has to chill."

"Sure," she grins, sliding down from the counter and pushing on the cage of his arm until he lets her step free, her slender fingers sliding into his pocket to fish out his phone. She unlocks it and finds the screenshot picture of the recipe, settling his phone on the counter and leaning over it with one hand pressed to her mouth to study the instructions.

Cooking with her has always been fun, even back when her apartment exploded and she insisted on helping for those few days she stayed at the loft. They make the dessert together with his iPod blaring from the speakers, and Kate dances with him around the kitchen, her head thrown back in laughter.

"What do you want to do now?" he asks once the desserts are finished and safely in the fridge to cool. She's got a little splodge of caramel at the corner of her mouth from tasting the mixture and he leans in close, darts his tongue out to capture that burst of sweetness.

Her fingers slide into his hair to keep him there and she opens her mouth to his kiss, lets him bend her backwards a litte bit. The temptation is strong to sweep her off her feet and carry her away, lay down with her and let her have her wicked way with him, but he knows she probably has preparations she wants to get done for tonight.

"As much as I love you," she starts, and his eyes slam closed. "And I love having sex with you, I don't really want to spend our last day doing just that. We can have sex all day when we get back to the city. I want to enjoy being here with you."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," he gruffs at her and she flushes, burying her face against his shoulder a moment before she steps back from him and folds her arms over her chest. "But I do see your point. So what did you want to do? A hike?"

She thinks on that for a moment, head tilted to one side to regard him, and then she glances down at his legs. He's been keeping topped up with Benadryl and calamine lotion and it's really helping; he hardly even notices the itching now.

"I want to swim. If you think you can? I don't want the lake to irritate your legs."

"I'm sure it won't do any harm," he shrugs at her, leaning in to steal a fast kiss from her mouth. Castle loops his arm through hers and brings her with him towards her childhood bedroom to change into their bathing suits, pausing in the doorframe to kiss her again. "Yeah. Let's swim."


	18. Chapter 18

**Living is Easy**

* * *

When they climb out of the water and collect their towels from the dock, laying them out along the wood so they can stretch together like cats and let the sun dry them, Kate's body hums with pleasant tiredness. At her side her partner is huffing and sighing as he arranges the breadth of his body comfortably on his back, sunglasses over his eyes now and his shoulders looking a little pink.

Kate reaches for the sunscreen bottle and squeezes some out into her palm, taps him to have him sit up so she can work the lotion into the tops of his shoulders and arms, his back. "How are your legs?"

"They're fine," he turns over his shoulder to smile at her, arching his neck to brush a kiss to the swell of her bottom lip. "The water kind of helped, actually."

"I'm glad," she grins, squeezing out some more lotion for herself before she passes the bottle over to him. Kate rubs the sunscreen into her legs and arms, dabs a little onto her face as well before she turns away from her partner to expose her shoulders to him.

He doesn't even need to be asked after so many days here together. Castle's thick fingers work the lotion into her skin with relish, digging in just slightly to ease away any last vestiges of tension she's carrying around with her. Once he's done she turns back and lets three fingers just barely touch at his cheek, her hands still a little sticky. "Thanks, babe."

"No problem," he says, chest puffing up with silly pride and she laughs, laying down on her stomach to let the top of her back and her shoulders see some of the sun's kiss. Reaching for her sunglasses, Kate is careful not to get oily lotion prints on the lenses, her fingers wrapped around the legs to ease them onto her face.

Folding her arms underneath herself, she lets her cheek rest against her forearm and watches him as he arranged himself comfortably on his back again. His chest is so broad and golden, the scattering of hair that snakes from his navel down to the waistband of his board shorts making her want to follow that path with the press of her mouth.

"Stop it," he grunts, reaching out to lay his palm over the low down curve of her spine. The material of her suit stretches over the planes of her body, damp and clinging, and she knows how badly it makes him want to touch. "Kate. We'll have no energy left to make dinner."

"I know," she laughs, closing her eyes even behind her glasses and wriggling her toes, scrunching them in the soft fabric of her towel. She was the one who said she didn't want to spend the whole of their last day in bed, but she's still so full up with joy from finally being able to tell him how she feels that she can't help but want to have him.

They lay together in easy silence, the susurration of the lake as it laps against the dock making her feel drowsy and sun-baked, and Castle's fingers wander up and down the stretch of her thigh. She tried to keep her hair out of the water, didn't really want to get it wet for the second time in one day, but being at the cabin together has made them both childlike and giddy and so she didn't even care when he splashed her. Instead, she crawled up his body like a monkey and dunked him, smudged a kiss to his mouth when he came back up to the surface.

"Is this a fancy dinner? Because I didn't bring my bow tie," he murmurs to her and Kate lifts up, supporting the weight of her body on her forearms to look at him. His hair has dried fluffy, sticking up all over his head and she cards her fingers through it, her heart a soft and melting thing.

Shaking her head, Kate shifts her body closer to his and leans in to kiss the ridge of his collar bone, tasting the murky hint of lake water and sunscreen lotion. "Not fancy. It's just Tilly."

"You can help me decide what to wear," he says, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards in teasing. She kind of likes that idea though, so Kate sighs and traces a line down the very centre of his chest until she meets the waistband of his board shorts, curling two fingers under the elastic and pressing her smile to his bicep when he shivers. "Should we go inside? We've got preparations to do."

"Yeah," she says, sitting up and drawing her legs underneath herself. Kate stretches her arms up over her head, knowing it makes the material of her swimsuit pull taut over her breasts and her partner growls, drops an arm to cover his eyes.

Teasing is fun, but she doesn't want to make sitting through dinner an unpleasant experience for him, so Kate drapes her towel around her neck and gets to her feet, hunting for her flip flops and sliding them on. She leans against one of the posts that holds up the dock while she waits for him, one leg bent so that just her toes touch the warmth of the wooden slats.

When he stands, Castle collects his own towel and shoes and the bottle of sunscreen, comes to splay his fingers at her waist and lean in to kiss her softly before he reaches for her hand. Their grip is loose and shifting as they pick their way up the path and back to the cabin, his palm warm where it touches hers, and when they make it to the french doors it takes her a moment to be able to let go.

"I'm gonna clean up in here a bit," her partner says, dumping his stuff in a pile on the counter. "Maybe try to gather all our stuff to pack again."

She nods at that, reaching for his towel and draping it over one arm. "Okay. I'm gonna get dressed and then do a load of laundry so we don't have to do it when we get back to the city. Is yours still in the bedroom?"

"Yes," he laughs, taking a couple of steps towards her until he can reel her in with his hands at her hips, her body a smooth line resting easy against his. "You thoroughly distracted me."

Kate laces her arms around his neck and tilts her head, hips rocking forward just a little to meet his. "I'm not apologising for that. It was well worth it. Do you wanna give me your shorts and I'll wash those, too?"

"Trying to get me naked, Detective?" he quips, arching an eyebrow at her, but he slips out of his board shorts and hands them over to her, following her into the bedroom.

Sitting herself on the end of the twin bed, Kate watches him step into clean underwear and khaki shorts, a navy button down. He leaves three buttons at the neck undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, inspecting himself in the mirror above the dresser before he turns back around to face her.

"You look good," she smiles, leaning back on her hands and arching just a little, feeling at once lazy and predatory. Like a lioness who knows she needn't waste her effort on the chase, because the catch will come easy.

"Thanks," he grins, puffing up his chest and shoving his hands into his pockets, turning a little as if to let her admire him from another angle. "Do you want me to put that laundry on?"

Kate shakes her head and gets to her feet, comes to slide her arms around his waist. She keeps her body carefully away; even though her suit is mostly dry, she doesn't want to risk dampening his lovely, crisp shirt. "No, I'll do it. I kind of like getting to do laundry when I've got my own washer and dryer."

That makes him smile, leaning in to kiss her softly, and his fingers wrap loosely around the end of her braid. "You know, the loft has its own laundry room. You're welcome to use it any time."

"The perks of being in love with you," she chuckles and his face cracks apart on a beaming grin, his body moving closer until his forehead meets hers. He seeks her mouth again, his kiss sweet with joy and Kate hums into it, tongue darting out to touch the corner of his lips.

"Alright," he says when he pulls away from her, tugging on the end of her hair a little. There's something affectionate in it that reminds her of how he is with Alexis, makes her wonder if he used to do the same thing to his daughter when she was a tiny girl. "Well, I'll see you around then."

She laughs, shaking her head at him and lifting a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes crinkling at the corners so that she sees him through the thicket of her lashes, her partner striped with velvet black. "Yeah, see you around, Castle."

He disappears into the living area and she hears him plug his phone into the speaker dock and start up a playlist, the low notes of his singing along as he cleans. Kate changes into fresh underwear and her clothes from this morning, looking out the dress she wore when they went out to dinner and draping it over a chair in her bedroom to keep it pristine for this evening.

On her knees on the floor, Kate separates their clothes into clean and dirty, folding all of the still-good clothes in a neat pile. She looks out shorts and a t-shirt for each them to wear on the journey back tomorrow and packs everything else into their suitcases, both bags open on the bed.

The dirty laundry, she separates into piles of light and dark colours, wandering through the rest of the cabin and outside to make sure she has everything before she starts the first load in the washer. In the kitchen she passes her partner and she pauses to share a kiss with him, sliding her hands into the back pockets of his shorts to draw him in close.

"Nice singing," she teases, nipping at the underside of his jaw and then darting her tongue out to soothe, his stubble prickly and intoxicating.

He flushes, pride and embarrassment both colouring the apples of his cheeks and he smiles down at her, fingertips flirting with the bottom of her skirt. "Are you enjoying the laundry?"

"Uh-huh," she laughs, shaking her head at herself and dropping her hands from him, stepping back a little. "I'm pretty sure I got everything."

She ducks into the bedroom for a moment to collect one of the laundry piles, coming back to the kitchen to load the clothes into the washer and add the detergent, start the machine. She stays cross-legged on the floor in front of it for a little while, glad for the chance to take her time with the task. If she wants to she can read some more of her book in between loads, maybe even go for a walk in the woods.

Castle is pottering around in the living area, straightening cushions and dusting ornaments, and she kind of likes this domesticity without being right on top of one another. Both of them set on their own tasks, but still in each other's vicinity, still there if she wants to go and steal a kiss every so often.

"Hey," he says, leaning over the top of the kitchen island to see her. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Just enjoying being here with you," she smiles, getting to her feet and coming around the island to his side, leaning in to rest her cheek against his bicep. He reaches for her, free arm curling around her shoulders and she lets herself get tucked in against him.

Nuzzling at her temple, Castle's breath washes over her cheek and his lips form a kiss against her skin, his fingers stroking up and down her arm. "We'll come back, Beckett."

"Do you think it'll still be good in the city? With us, I mean."

"Course it will," he says, squeezing her a little tighter so that her breath escapes in a huff. "It was good - great - before we came to the cabin, right? So it's only going to be better when we go back."

Kate nods and turns in his embrace to see him, his height always making her stomach flutter a little bit when she's barefoot. His body looms over hers and she almost wants to curl up, take shelter in the cove of his arms. "Right."

"So let's enjoy our last day here," he says, a kiss to the corner of her mouth that she turns her face in to, capturing his lip between her teeth and nibbling a little. His tongue slicks inside and she gives him that little noise, something close to a whimper that makes him grunt and rock his hips into hers.

There's a lot they still need to get done before Tilly gets here later this evening, but when Castle's hands come to her ass and lift her onto the counter she wraps her legs around his hips in one fluid motion, suddenly no longer concerned with the list of chores in her brain.

His mouth is hot and everywhere, and Kate can't do more than cling on to his ears and screw her eyes closed, holding on as he works to ruin her.

* * *

When Tilly's car pulls into the driveway Castle is just putting the finishing touches to the table setting and he grins at his excellent timing, calling out to his partner on the back deck. "Kate, she's here."

"Can you let her in? I'm not quite done," she says back, turning over her shoulder to look at him. Kate found a box of Christmas lights in the garage and she's winding them around the balustrade of the back porch, so that when it gets dusky a little later they can be outside and still be able to see.

He's never known her quite like this, girlish and beaming as she flits around the cabin putting freshly picked flowers into vases, arranging all of the furniture just so. It's cute; more than once he's interrupted her for a kiss and gotten swatted away for his trouble, laughing to himself when she pouts at him. The cabin looks beautiful now, like something out of a catalogue his mother would read, and Kate with her white dress and her hair in soft curls seems to have stepped right out of the pages herself.

At the front door he greets Tilly, accepts her hug enthusiastically. He really likes Kate's friend, likes everyone they've met on their trip really, and he's already looking forward to the next time they're here. "Hey, come in. Kate's just outside."

"Hi Rick," Tilly grins at him, stepping inside the cabin and closing the front door behind herself. She's wearing a dress patterned with rich jewel tones in blues and purples that reminds him a little of something his mother might wear. On Tilly it looks regal and gorgeous; she wears the dress in a way that makes the fabric seem grateful for every place it gets to drape over her.

The two of them move through the cabin and out onto the back deck just in time for Kate finishing up with the lights. She gets to her feet and draws Tilly in to a hug, grinning at him from over her friend's shoulder. When she pulls back she rakes a hand through her hair and steps closer to his side, her heels putting her almost as tall as him.

"How are you, Till?"

"I'm good honey," Kate's friend grins, eyes flicking between the two of them. "How are you two? Enjoying your vacation?"

Rick nods, reaching for his partner's hand to knot their fingers together. Turning her head to look at him, Kate's face softens into a smile and her eyes crease up at the corners with joy. When she turns back to look at Tilly her friend chuckles, shaking her head at the two of them. "We've had a great time. Come inside, let's get drinks."

He lets Kate lead the way, has to untangle his hand from hers when they get to the kitchen. Rick and Tilly settle themselves onto barstools at the kitchen island to watch Kate flit around and collect glasses for the three of them, the wine from the refrigerator.

"Oh no honey, I'm driving," Tilly waves a hand when Kate offers the wine bottle to her and she nods, turning back to the fridge.

"We've got grenadine syrup and Sprite if you'd like?"

Tilly nods at that and swivels a little on the barstool, grinning at Kate. All of a sudden, he can imagine the two of them as girls, heads bent together in mischief, and he can't help his smile. He accepts the glass of deep pink liquid and crushed ice his partner hands over to him and sips at it, the soda tickling the back of his throat.

He wonders if it's habit for Kate not to drink when her guest is staying teetotal for the evening, whether she's gotten used to it after so many years of her father's sobriety. Rick doesn't mind at all, is perfectly happy to stick with non-alcoholic drinks for the evening, and he comes around the kitchen island to hunt for the packet of drinking straws in the cabinet.

"How about you two ladies go enjoy your drinks outside and I'll get started on dinner?" he suggests, capturing Kate with an arm around her waist as she moves past him. He doesn't want to embarrass her with too much affection in front of her friend, but he's so full up with adoration for her that he can't help but dust a kiss to her cheekbone.

It makes her blush and she swats lightly at him, sighing a little as she moves to follow Tilly outside, but he catches the smile that hovers at one corner of her mouth and he grins to himself, wiggling his shoulders to let some of the delight out before he starts cooking.

The meal turns out great, the duck tender and delicious, and he basks in the compliments Tilly and Kate offer him as they eat. Before Kate's friend arrived, he suggested to her that he be the one to cook dinner, so that she could relax and enjoy this time with Tilly. He had worried that she'd assume he thinks she's not a good enough cook, but Kate had smiled and kissed him for the suggestion.

He knows she can cook, has no doubt that the meal would have turned out wonderfully if Kate had been the one to make it, but he got to watch the two of them sitting out on the deck, heads thrown back in laughter every so often, and he knows he made the right decision.

Over dinner they talk about the antics Kate and Tilly got up to as teenagers, the way their fathers had to conspire together to keep the girls out of mischief, and by the time they clear their first course Rick's sides ache with amusement. He's a little concerned, too; by all accounts both he and Kate were pretty wild as teens, and he dreads to think what their own kids will be like.

Since Kate gave him the story of their future in the middle of the night, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He's really trying to pace himself, ease them into this, but knowing that they both want the same thing makes it hard not to race into making that story their truth.

"Ready for dessert?" he asks, to distract himself from the amazing possibilities of their life together. The girls - he can't help but think of them that way when they're together - both nod at him and he clears everyone's plates, collects the little pots of salted caramel and chocolate from the refrigerator.

Kate made these mostly by herself, following his instructions, so now it's his turn to groan his pleasure and smile at her from around his spoon, lavish her with compliments. It makes her cheeks flush and she ducks her head to hide her own smile, rolling her eyes at him a little.

"So, Rick," Tilly says slowly, her dessert pot empty in front of her. She leans back in her chair and folds her arms, staring at him, and he hears Kate suck in a breath through her teeth. "Katie's been very unforthcoming with details of your relationship."

"Details?" he gulps, eyes flying to his partner's just in time to see them slam closed. She brings a hand up to cover them, a quiet sigh escaping her, and he turns to look back at Tilly.

She laughs, shaking her head at them both and clasping her hands together. "She won't tell me _anything_ about what you're like in the sack."

He chokes on nothing, both hands flying up to cover his face and he groans. This is infinitely worse than his mother getting home in the middle of their first morning together, and his face actually hurts with the pulse of embarrassment.

"Well," he starts, flicking his eyes over to Kate to find her watching him with her teeth firmly caught in her bottom lip. Turning back to Tilly, he lifts a shoulder in a half shrug and grins a little, remembering only a few hours ago when he had Kate gasping and rolling her body against him. "If Kate doesn't want to share details, I'll respect that, but let's just say that I keep her satisfied. Right?"

"Oh god," his partner grunts, one hand over her mouth now. She refuses to look at him, staring her friend down instead, and he reaches underneath the table to walk his fingertips up the length of her thigh. The contact makes her jerk and she scowls at him, curls her fingers around his wrist and squeezes hard. "Yes. Fine. It's. . .the best ever."

He wants to crow with delight at that, the baser parts of him overflowing with neanderthal pride, but Kate's heeled foot comes to rest on top of his and she presses down just slightly; he keeps his mouth shut. Tilly is cackling at the look on Kate's face and he stands up to let the two of them duke it out while he clears away the dinner things.

By the time he's done putting all the dishes in the sink to be washed later, the women have migrated back outside and he comes to join them, perches on the end of the double lounger. Dusk has settled in the bowl of the mountains and the lights Kate wound through the railings look breathtaking. He reaches out to settle his hand over her knee and squeeze, something inside him levelling out into serenity when her fingers curl around his.

"I know I tease," Tilly starts, one leg folded over the other in the adirondack chair and her sandal dangling from her toes. "But I'm so glad you're so happy, Katie. You deserve somebody amazing, and you've found him."

He wonders what exactly Kate has told her friend about their history, if she explained how hard they fought to make it here. Rick smiles at his partner, leaning in to kiss her cheek a moment before he glances over at Tilly again. "I'm glad you think so. It's wonderful to get to love her."

That makes Kate blush again and he stifles his laughter, feels a little guilty for embarrassing her so many times this evening. He knows she doesn't mind though, that if she were really uncomfortable she'd tell him in that silent way they have, so he doesn't feel too bad about it.

"I should probably be heading home," Tilly says, extending her arm to check her watch. "I don't like to drive on these roads when it's too dark."

All three of them get to their feet and move back inside the cabin, through to the entryway. Tilly captures Kate in a hug that lingers, squeezing tight, and he watches the tension drain out of his partner's shoulders.

"Thank you so much for inviting me," Tilly says when she lets Kate go, drawing Castle into an embrace as well. "It was so great to catch up properly Katie, and to get to know you a little better Rick."

"Drive safe, Till," Kate says to her friend, and Castle drapes an arm around her shoulders and draws her in close to him, leaning against the doorframe to watch Tilly get into her car and pull out of the drive. Kate's fingers hook into his back pocket and she nuzzles at his neck, her free hand fluttering in a wave as Tilly's car disappears.

When they can no longer see the headlights, Castle lets her go and closes the front door, turns back to see her hovering beside him. She smiles, full and lovely, and she steps in close to brush a kiss to his mouth. "Thank you, Castle. You made this evening perfect."

"Anything for you," he says back, allowing the rich depth of his emotion to flood him just for a moment. He's not looking to drown either of them here, but it's important to him that Kate understands exactly how much he's willing to do for her.

"You cooked, so I'll clean up," she says, an edge of fierceness to her voice that lets him know not to bother arguing with that.

He nods, coming back in for another kiss that builds slowly until he's got her backed up against the wall and a leg hooked over his hip, his fingers digging into her thigh to keep her in place as his pelvis rocks into hers. Kate's lips work at the side of his neck, her teeth nibbling at the soft skin every so often and he growls, breaks away from her to let his forehead thud against the wall next to her.

Laughing, Kate strokes a hand up and down his spine as if to soothe, a chaste kiss landing at the edge of his cheekbone. "Let me clean up, okay? And then we've got the rest of the evening for this."

"Right," he breathes, stepping away to let her move from the wall. He follows her through to the kitchen, because he's not really sure what else to do with himself, and he perches on a barstool at the island to chat to her while she washes up. "Do you wanna sleep outside tonight again? Since it's our last night and all."

"Sure," she smiles at him, elbow deep in soapy water at the sink. He feels bad just sitting here watching her, so Rick slips down from his seat and grabs a dishcloth to dry the things on the draining rack, his hip nudging hers as they stand side by side.

Once they're done and changed into sleep clothes, Kate pulls the comforter from her parents' bed and brings it outside with her, directs him to carry the pillows so they can make the double lounger into a bed again. All the lights are off inside the house now, and when Kate turns out the lights winding through the railing as well the sky above them is suddenly a vast swathe of deep purple pinpricked with light, the moon missing a few slices as if they've been carved away like cheese.

"I can't believe it's already our last night here," Kate sighs when she climbs into bed, crawling right across the sheets to snuggle up close to him. Her head pillows on his chest, arm draped over his waist, and even now he can't quite believe that Beckett wants to cuddle him, actively seeks him out.

Rick drops a kiss to the crown of her head and secures his arm around her, the soft and liquid weight of her body draped over him making him feel awed and so grateful he could weep. "It's not our last night here. Just our last for a little while."

"Yeah," she smiles, nuzzling at his neck a little. Underneath the covers, her foot draws up and her toes trace a line up his shin until her leg hooks over his. She reminds him a little of a limpet when she's like this, wrapped so tight around him, and he squeezes her a little.

She won't sleep like this, will roll away and put her back to him when she's ready to let dreams fold over her head, but while they're lazing together she likes to stick close.

"This has been the best nine days of my life," he whispers to her, eyes closed against the sudden crush of emotion in his chest. Even though they've fought, and he's struggled with poison ivy, he can't remember ever being so consistently happy to do nothing but be with another person.

Kate rolls over onto her stomach, chin propped on his sternum and grating against the bone whenever she moves her head, and a smile ripens at her mouth. "Mine too. I knew we'd have a good time, but I had no idea how much I'd love just spending time with you."

"Even though I annoyed you sometimes?" he teases, wriggling underneath her so that her body gets caught up in tumult.

She rolls her eyes at that, lifting up to push a kiss to his mouth, and her fingertips slide around to play with the soft baby hairs at the nape of his neck. "Even then. Thank you, Castle, for making this a place of good memories again."

"Thanks for letting me be here," he whispers, the clog of gratitude in his throat preventing him from saying anything more. This was all he wanted for a year and a half; just to be with her, be a normal couple and do things like cook dinner together and go for walks. It's at the top of his bucket list, and he wonders if maybe he should show her that. Show her exactly how long he's yearned to be allowed to love her.

A last kiss brushed to his mouth, and then Kate moves away from him and curls up on her side, one leg snaking out from the sheets and her fist pressed to her cheek. He chuckles softly and lifts up, supporting his weight on one hand as he looms over her and dusts his lips to her cheek, arranges her hair back away from her face.

"Goodnight, Kate. Sweet dreams," he murmurs softly, and he gets a twitch at the corner of her mouth in an almost smile and a soft, happy breath like his daughter used to make when she was falling asleep on his chest.

For a long while, he stays half upright to watch the slow slackening of Kate's face as she slips into sleep, and then he lays down in the shadow of her, body curled around hers and the warmth of her seeping into his skin as he falls asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

**Living is Easy**

* * *

Melancholia hangs over her head when Kate wakes up, and for a handful of minutes it's all she can do to lay there with her face mashed into her pillow and a hand resting on her partner's chest. When she gets out of bed, she's going to have to finish packing and clean the cabin and then they have to head back to the city, so Kate stays right where she is to delay the inevitable.

The morning is already sweltering and she snakes her legs out from underneath the covers to cool off a little, the heat making her lethargic and even more unwilling to move than she already is. At her side, Castle murmurs in his sleep and she smiles, rolling over onto her stomach to watch him.

Actually, she really ought to wake him up. There's no set time they need to go home, and for a moment Kate ponders just staying here until she has to go back to the precinct in the fall. Only, she's supposed to have brunch with her dad tomorrow, and she knows Castle has some meetings at Black Pawn about publicity for his latest novel. As nice as it is to be at the cabin with no internet and no television, they've both got responsibilities that call them back to New York.

Drawing her knees up underneath her body, Kate sits at her partner's side and tugs the covers down from around him. Waves of heat roll off his body like a furnace and Kate skims her hand down his bare chest and to the waistband of his pajama shorts, curling her fingers in the elastic. She tugs the material away from his body and slides her hand inside, fingers seeking until he comes awake on a gasp and struggles upright, supporting his body on his elbows.

"Beckett," he chokes, reaching for her wrist and wrapping his hand around it. She half expects him to tug her away, but he stays there just holding on to her and blinking, his eyes not quite in focus and so blue this morning she can hardly bear to look. His hair sticks up all over his head and she giggles, shifting closer to get her mouth at his cheek.

She kisses her way up to his temple and hovers there, tongue darting out to touch the very corner of his eye. "Good morning."

"Morning," he yawns, collapsing back down to the mattress again and staring up at her. Castle scrubs a hand over his face and groans a little; she sits back and gives him some time to come awake properly, watches him wriggle his toes and stretch his arms over his head before he opens his eyes again to smile at her. "Did you just want to wake me, or did you wake me for _that_?"

Kate laughs, shaking her head at him and stretching her body out to lay at his side again, one leg hooked over his. Her palm rests against his chest to feel the thrum of his heart and she nuzzles in close at his neck, smelling fresh mountain air and underneath the musk of dreams.

"I mostly just wanted you to be awake. This is our last morning here; I didn't want to spend it without you."

"It doesn't have to be our last morning," he says softly, an arm sliding under her body to land tight around her shoulders and draw her closer to his chest. Castle cranes his neck to dust a kiss to the crown of her head and she hums, her lips forming a kiss to his pectoral in response. "We could stay longer. Reschedule things."

A sigh meanders out of her and she shakes her head as much as she can manage to while trapped mostly under the swell of Castle's bicep. "No. If we don't go back now, we'll just keep extending and extending and then when I eventually have to go back to work it'll be a hundred times harder."

"Okay," he says easily, shifting his torso just to jostle her and she gasps, sliding an arm around his waist to hold on through the tumult. It makes him laugh, a hot wash of breath against the crown of her head, and his voice softens with tenderness for her. "It's going to be just as good in the city, Kate. And when we get back to the precinct it's going to be even better than before."

"Oh really?" she murmurs, lifting up to arch an eyebrow at him.

Kate props her chin against his sternum, their bones crunching every time she moves her head, and like this her body drapes over his and he shudders, hips rocking shallowly into her. "Yes. Because now, after we're done building theory and solving cases together, instead of going home and aching with how much I miss you, I get to go home _with_ you."

"Uh-huh," she smirks, shifting to get comfortable and ending up with her thigh between his. "Now those fantasies you spend all day concocting can come true."

A flush of colour floods his cheeks and his eyes move away from her for a moment, his gaze firmly on his fingers as he plays with the ends of her hair where they spill across his chest. "Well, yes, but not just that. Obviously I wanted the sex part, but I also wanted to eat dinner with you and watch a movie, cuddle on my couch or yours. I wanted to go home with you after a tough case and make sure that you were okay, hold you while you cried if you needed that."

How much he loves her knocks the breath right out of her chest and Kate crawls up his body until she gets her mouth against his. She keeps her kiss soft, a barely there press of her lips to his, and when she breaks away her forehead rests against his cheek.

"I wanted that too, Castle," she breathes, allowing him to roll her onto her back and hover over her instead, one hand smoothing her hair back out of her face and coming to rest against her cheek. "So many times, I went home and I just wanted you there. Just to talk to you, laugh with you. There were times I almost called to ask you to come over, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from kissing you, and that would have ruined things back then."

"I know, I'm pretty irresistible," he chuckles and she rolls her eyes, but it sends a crack splintering through the rapidly settling sadness, and she no longer aches with how much time she wasted. Instead she smiles, laces her arms around his neck to draw him down to her.

He kisses her slow and soft, rich with adoration and her breath trembles in her chest, fingers sifting through his hair. "We've got time. Wanna go out with a bang?"

"That was terrible, Kate Beckett," he groans at her, but he shifts until the press of his body is between her thighs and his hands fist in the hem of her shirt to drag it up over her head, tossing it across the room. His skin is scalding everywhere it touches hers and Kate gasps, lets him spread her out across the sheets and bring his mouth to hers.

* * *

After breakfast and a shared shower that turned into another round against the tile, Kate's body slippery and quick against his, they have to finish packing their cases. He does a quick tour of the cabin while his partner is finishing getting dressed, doing something with her hair.

He finds his phone charger still plugged into the outlet in her parents' bedroom, a few hair ties of Kate's scattered around the place, but they did a pretty good job of cleaning up yesterday. The beauty of Beckett's family owning the cabin means that they can leave things here for the next time they come up, so he doesn't need to pack up any of the books and they can leave the freshly laundered towels in the linen closet.

Right after they got out of bed they stripped the sheets and loaded them into the washer, and it beeps at him as he moves through the kitchen. He collects the bedding and hangs it out to dry on the line at the back of the cabin. With the heat of the day, it should take less than an hour.

Rick moves back to the bedroom in search of his partner, finds her packing their toiletries away into their individual travel bags. She's wearing more makeup than he's seen on her in days, eyeliner and a touch of blush and he grins, comes to capture her waist in his palms.

He loves her barefaced, but he loves this too. A little more Beckett, sexy and serious, and he dips his head to take a kiss from her. Kate's arms come up and slide around his shoulders, her mouth opening at the nudge of his tongue to let him slip inside and she moans, the noise crumbling into a sigh.

"You look lovely today," he says, hoping it's not the wrong thing. Kate isn't Meredith or Gina, isn't as quick to snap at him if he fumbles a compliment, but he doesn't ever want to offend her. "Not that you don't look lovely when you're not wearing makeup, I mean, it's just. . .a different sort of beautiful."

Even with the blush, he spots the flush of colour in her cheeks and the base of her throat, the way she dips her head and can't quite look at him for a moment. "Thanks, Castle. Did you check we haven't forgotten anything?"

"Yep," he says, leaning a hip against the bathroom counter to watch her finish packing their toiletries away and zipper the two wash bags closed. "I hung the sheets out to dry as well. What do you want to do with our towels from earlier?"

Kate thinks for a moment, chewing on her lip as she picks up both of the toiletry bags and carries them through to the bedroom to pack away into their suitcases. He follows her, perching on the end of the bed to await her instruction, and she comes to stand between his knees and sift her fingers through his hair. "We only used them once, so they should be okay. Would you hang them out with the sheets so they can dry?"

"Sure," he smiles, framing her face in his palms when she leans down to kiss him. She's got her hair in a braid again, over one shoulder, and he wonders if she's going to let it stay like this, let it grow out even longer.

He does sometimes miss the short hair from the first year he knew her, the way he imagined it brushing over his knuckles when he would cup her cheek and draw her in to his kiss, but the curls that tumble down her back are gorgeous too.

"Thanks. I'm gonna clear out the refrigerator. Is there anything you want to eat before it goes in the trash?"

Rick shakes his head, standing from the end of the twin bed. It puts him several inches taller than her and Kate takes a moment to lean against his chest, her cheek right over his heart. She's sad this morning, he can see it in the line of her shoulders, the moment's hesitation before each smile, and he vows to himself that they'll make it back to the cabin soon.

"I'm pretty full from breakfast. I don't think there's much left in there anyway, right?"

"Nope," she shakes her head at him, pulling away from the circle of his arms and moving to head out of the bedroom. Rick ducks into the bathroom to collect their towels from the rail before he follows her, passes her in the kitchen with a kiss to her cheek on his way outside.

There's a soft breeze tumbling down from the mountains today, making the sheets dance, and one of them whips up and tangles around him as he hangs up the towels. He yelps, twisting to try and free himself without ripping he sheet from the line, only ending up even more caught up than he was to start with.

Fingertips come to his shoulder blade and he jolts, turning over his shoulder to see his partner. Kate chuckles at him and untangles the sheet so he can get free, straightening it out on the line again. "You okay?"

"You saved me," he breathes, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her right off the ground, spinning them both in a circle. A stream of laughter pours from Kate and she brings her legs up so that they form a right angle, arms tight around his neck.

When he sets her on her feet again she staggers a little, clutching at his biceps to stay standing and he laughs, keeps his hands on her until he's sure she's not going to fall down in the grass. Eventually she stands up straight again, beaming at him, but the smile slides off her face like tar and she sighs, throat jumping as she swallows. "I'm gonna miss this."

"Miss what?" he asks, reaching for her hands and enfolding them both in his. "We can still have fun together in the city, Beckett."

"No, I know," she says immediately, the corner of her mouth quirking in something close to a smile. "I just mean. . .being out in the open with you. Not having to worry that we're going to bump into somebody we know and then our secret will get out and I'll lose you at the precinct."

Rick sighs and scrapes his hands over his face, huffing into the cup of his palms before he drops them to look at her. "I still don't think we have anything to be afraid of. But we'll figure it out, okay? I'm not going to let fear stop me from holding your hand in the park."

"Okay," she smiles, stretching onto the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. "Are you alright out here? Not going to get attacked by a sheet again?"

"I'm finished now anyway," he huffs at her, a pout swelling at his bottom lip that makes her laugh and roll her eyes at him. Kate moves back towards the cabin and he jogs to catch up with her, grapples for her hand to squeeze as they climb the three steps onto the back deck.

Kate stops him before they make it through the french doors, one arm folded across her stomach so that her free hand rests at the opposite hip. "We need to put the cushions in the garage and cover the furniture. You remember where everything is?"

"Yep," he nods, detaching himself from her to cut through the house and out front, collecting the garage key on his way. Rick gathers the sheets of tarpaulin and the string to fasten them with and heads back to the porch with everything in his arms.

The cushions from the lounger are in a neat pile next to the door and Kate has pushed the adirondack chairs and the table back against the wall of the cabin, the metal frame of the double lounger folded flat and propped next to the rest of the furniture.

At the sound of his footsteps she turns to see him and takes the stack of tarps and the string, unfolding each piece of material one at a time to cover the furniture. He helps the best that he can, but it's clear that she's done this a hundred times before and he's not really needed, so he leans back against the railing to watch her.

"What else do we need to do?" he asks when she's finished and she comes to stand beside him, facing the opposite way so that her hips rest against the balustrade and she gazes out at the lake. It's especially gorgeous today, like a shard of glass nestled between the mountains, and he thinks it's incredibly unfair that they have to leave on one of the most beautiful days they've had here.

She's silent for a little while and he rests a palm low down at the curve of her spine, his thumb stroking along the notches of her vertebrae. When she turns her head to see him, Kate lays her cheek against his shoulder and sighs, her eyes closing. "We need to do a last check that we've got everything, and then put our cases in the car. I wanted to brush the floors too, make sure it's nice and clean for next time. And bring the laundry in when it's dry."

"Let's take our time," he suggests, smiling at her when she lifts her head to look at him. "There's no reason we can't linger."

* * *

They take a break at a rest stop after an hour or so of driving, both of them craving coffee. It's quieter on a Wednesday morning than it was the Saturday they drove up, and most of the tables are empty, so Castle stays with her in the line. She shook his hand off, her palm clammy from driving, but she sticks close to his body and he doesn't seem to mind too much.

In front of them in line, a guy is on the phone to somebody Kate assumes to be his wife by the ring on his finger and the tone of his voice. He's wearing an expensive suit, his hair slicked into place with too much gel, and with every platitude he gives the woman on the end of the phone he rolls his eyes.

"Yes, honey, I know. You just sit tight and I'll be home soon to deal with it," the guy says, and then he hangs up the call and stuffs his phone back into his pocket, catching Castle's eye as he does.

Kate's partner is a little in front of her, wanted to look at the flavoured syrups they have available at the coffee place in this rest stop, and she doesn't think the smarmy guy in the suit realises that she and Castle are together.

"Women, right?" the guy says, rolling his eyes and grinning at Castle. "I don't even want coffee, I'm just trying to delay getting home to her."

"Your wife?" Castle says curtly, hands stuffed into his pockets now, and Kate can see the lines of tension that shoot up his forearms. She hangs back a little, intrigued about how Castle will handle the situation, and she tries not to stare too obviously.

The guy rolls his eyes again, giving his order to the barista before he turns back to look at Castle again. "Yeah. You know how it is, pal. Breaking my back so the ball and chain can buy the latest lipgloss or that purse she just has to have."

"Maybe you shouldn't have married her," Castle says, and although his voice is carefully measured to be light and easy, Kate hears the thunderclap of rage in it, his whole body almost vibrating with tension.

There's a beat of silence, the man staring at Castle, and then he laughs loudly and takes his espresso from the girl behind the counter, tossing a couple of bills down. "Well damn, maybe I shouldn't have."

"Are you okay?" Kate says once the guy is gone, reaching for her partner's hand and holding on tight. He doesn't look at her, the hard edge of his jaw ticking with anger and Kate stretches onto the tips of her toes to press her lips to it, lingering a moment. "Alright. Not here. We'll talk in a little while."

Kate gives their orders to the barista and hustles Castle towards the end of the counter, has to propel him forward through the fugue state he seems to have sunk into after his conversation with the businessman. She collects cardboard sleeves and a plastic lid for each of them, has to put Castle's on for him when the server hands their coffees over.

A drink in each hand, Kate nudges her shoulder into him and they walk to the seating area together, settling at a round table with two chairs. Castle sits first and Kate sets both of the travel cups down and drags her chair around the table to sit right next to him, close enough that their arms brush together.

She sips at her drink and waits him out, watches from the corner of her eye as he sucks in a few deep, measured breaths. Eventually, he relaxes against the back of his chair and reaches for his cappuccino, both hands wrapped around it.

"Are you alright?" she asks again, her voice little more than a murmur. Enough that he can pretend not to have heard if he doesn't feel ready to talk about it yet.

Her partner sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled and spilling over onto his forehead. "I hate guys like that. If you hate being married so much, _don't get married_."

Kate stays carefully silent, doesn't want to say anything that might offended him while he's still so volatile, but she's a little confused by his hypocrisy. Sipping at her latte, she's careful not to make a sound or look at him for longer than a second at a time. He must notice, no matter how covert she thinks she's being, because he grunts and turns in his seat to look at her.

"I know. I've been divorced twice. It sounds ridiculous for me to say that. But I really wanted to make those marriages work, Beckett. And I-" A low growl rumbles in his throat and his eyes slam closed, his mouth an ugly slash. "I really loved being married, making a family with my wife and my daughter. Until it went bad."

"Meredith cheated," she says gently, remembering a flippant remark he made about finding his ex wife on their couch with her director. "And you and Gina. . .you fought?"

He nods, setting his coffee cup back on the table without having touched any of it. "Yeah. She accused me of not letting her get close to Alexis, which was true. But I was willing to work on it. I wanted to try and make it work, with both of them, but it was just never supposed to be."

"But Castle," she starts, reaching for his hand and cradling it in both of hers so that he understands this isn't an accusation. "You've made jokes before. About the thought of marriage filling you with doom. I guess I thought you weren't really the type of guy who enjoyed the day to day."

"I love being married," he blurts, turning his hand over in her grip so he can lace their fingers together. "Kate, I love being a husband. I love family, I love the responsibility of having people to care for. I always wanted to get married and have a bunch of kids and a dog, but after I messed it up twice it just didn't seem possible for me. That's why the thought of being married filled me with doom; because I couldn't bear to go through that again."

Chewing on her lip, Kate watches him for a moment, not entirely sure why it's so important to her. She never thought she'd get married either, never imagined that somebody would want to put in the work of loving her, but this with Castle is so good that for the first time she can see it in her future.

"But you. . .you'd do it again if you found the right person?"

"I will. In a heartbeat," he says, free hand coming up to settle against her cheek, and she knows he means her. He means that one day, he'll ask her to marry him. Heart thrashing violently, Kate untangles her hand from his so that he can't feel how clammy her palms suddenly are.

She wants it for them, so badly.

Kate sips at her latte in silence, Castle finally starting to drink his own coffee beside her. She feels washed clean, but weak with it too. The yearning makes her tremble and she tightens her grip on the travel cup, forces herself to keep her breathing steady.

By the time they've finished their coffees, Kate feels a little less taken apart by want, enough that she trusts her legs not to give out from under her when she stands. Collecting both their coffee cups, she tosses them into the appropriate recycling container and heads back to the table to wait for her partner, holding out a hand to him.

The rest stop has a little store and they meander through it together, a basket dangling from Castle's free hand. They add bottled water and chips to it and then they come to stand in front of the small selection of books the store offers, Castle's hand migrating around her waist and two fingers hooking into the pocket of her shorts.

"Look," he laughs, nodding his head towards one of the books on the top shelf. Kate pulls it free, holding it in both hands like something precious. "They've got _Flowers For Your Grave_. This is the book that brought us together."

"Should we buy it?" she grins, nudging her elbow into him. She's reread the novel a few times since she and Castle met, each time so grateful for it having led her to find him. In fact, she might love it even more than the Nikki Heat books, if only because she imagines the red string of fate woven through every page.

Shaking his head, Castle drops his arm around her to rummage in his pocket, coming up with a pen. She knows he always carries something to write with, just in case an idea comes to him while he's out somewhere; one time in the first few days of their relationship, they went for brunch and he filled napkin after napkin with words while she ate waffles and smiled like a fool at him.

"I'm gonna sign it."

"Ooh," she grins, taking the basket from him to free his hands, let him sign his book for whomever might come across it here and decide to buy it. "Do you do that a lot?"

His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he writes, a little crease between his brows, and the way he's standing prevents her from seeing the message he leaves. Castle closes the book and slots it back on the shelf, putting his pen back in his pocket and kissing her cheek like a greeting, as if he's only just noticed that she's there.

"Castle? Do you sign your books in secret a lot?"

"Oh," he huffs, taking the basket back from her. "Did you just ask me that?"

Laughing softly, Kate slides her arm through his and rests her cheek against his shoulder for a moment, suddenly smitten with him. "I did. But you were distracted."

"Sorry," he says, a kiss brushed to the crown of her head making her smile. "Not as much as I used to, because the chances of me getting recognised go way up when I'm hovering around my own books. But I do like to when I get the chance."

They start walking again, half browsing and half making their way towards the cash register. Castle still feels a little tense at her side, his encounter with the businessman earlier obviously still weighing on him. Her partner is a good man, so ferociously supportive of all the women in his life, and she knows how much it sickens him to see the attitudes of some men.

In the past, they've had cases of domestic violence, victims killed by the person supposed to love them most in the world, and Castle usually stays in observation for those interrogations. He doesn't trust himself to be in the box, and each time her heart swells with admiration for him.

"As a fan," Kate starts, suddenly wanting to let him know just how amazing she thinks he is. Her words bring him to a standstill in the middle of the aisle and Kate, still attached to the end of his arm, gets tugged back to his side. "That would have made me so happy. To discover that you'd signed it. You're a good person, Rick."

"I love you," he breathes, staring at her and she smiles like a loon, her eyes scrunching closed as she leans in to kiss him. It's chaste - she doesn't want to get carried away in the middle of the store - but she lingers for a moment, hoping he can feel how proud she is of him.

When she pulls away she squeezes the fingers laced through his and they start moving towards the cash register again. She glances up at him, awe and adoration swirling in her belly, and her smile arcs wide and free across her face. "I love you, too."

After they've paid for their water and chips they head back to the car and Kate moves around to the passenger side, meeting her partner there. Surprise washes his face clean and he gapes at her, the beginning of his question muffled by her mouth against his.

There aren't very many cars in the lot, no one around to see her back her partner up against the side of his car and go for his mouth, her tongue slick inside. His hands come to her hips, the bag from the store tight in his fingers so that the bottled water bashes against her thigh, the cold making a shiver tear through her.

"You can drive," she breathes against his cheek, stroking her fingertips against his hand until he relinquishes the bag to her. "It's your turn."

"Okay," he grins, chest puffed up with pride and she kisses him again before she pats his chest and sends him on his way around to the driver's side.

Driving will give him something to focus on that isn't the awful man from the coffee line or the failings of his two previous marriages, and she wants that for him. Doesn't want him to get mired down in thinking he's not good enough.

When she slides into the passenger seat, Kate steals her partner's phone from his pants pocket and taps the car's interactive screen to connect the cell phone to the bluetooth and allow Castle's music to flood the speakers.

She'll sing with him, and chat about nothing, all the way back to the city if that's what he needs from her. Anything to show him that she doesn't care about his past relationships, is no longer phased by his two divorces.

It's different with them, everything is, and her faith is unwavering.


	20. Chapter 20

**Living is Easy**

* * *

Traffic grows viscous the closer they get to the city, and by the time they make it to Manhattan the cars move through the streets like sludge. Their windows are down because it's so damn hot in the car, but the air is rapidly becoming charred with exhaust fumes and she coughs, turning to glance at her partner. Castle doesn't seem too concerned, doesn't ask her to roll the window back up, so Kate continues to lean half out of it and watch the pockets of tourists that gaggle together in patches along the sidewalk.

It's rare that she's not the one to drive, especially in Manhattan, and she's glad for the opportunity to soak in her city like this. They pass subway station after subway station, musty-mouthed entrances swarming with people and Kate sighs, turns her face towards the car's feeble puffs of air conditioning. "It's gonna take us all day to get back in this traffic."

"Not all day," her partner chuckles, one hand on the steering wheel and the other reaching across the centre console to land at her thigh. She's sticky, desperate for a shower, and she captures his fingers to squeeze in hers. "It always seems so much worse when it's hot. Everything grinds to a halt."

"It's gonna take a while to get used to all the noise," she sighs, leaning back against the headrest and stretching her legs out. A car horn sounds out right next to them as if to make her point for her and she laughs, presses a hand over her eyes. She can hear at least six different languages right outside the window, snatches of words she understands in amongst the stream she doesn't, and she grins.

This is what she loves about New York, why as much as she enjoys her time at the cabin it does tend to make her go a little crazy after a while. She loves people, and her city has so many of them that she has no hope of ever knowing everybody here and having them know her.

When they pull into the underground garage of Castle's building and he parks the car, Kate finally rolls her window up and reaches for her partner before he can get out of the Buick, fingers curling around his wrist. "Good job driving. It was rough towards the end there."

"Oh," he breathes, surprise making his face go slack for just a moment before he grins at her, the arc of joy cleaving his face open so that light comes spilling out. "Thanks, Kate."

"You're welcome," she says, lifting her free hand to his cheek and holding him in place as she leans in to kiss him. Her fingers slide around to sift through the fine hair at the nape of his neck and she smiles against his mouth, has to stop kissing him to rest her forehead to his instead.

Castle opens his door then, climbing out of the car and waiting for her to do the same before he moves around to the trunk. They collect their suitcases and her partner locks his car, pushing the keys into the pocket of his shorts. He extends the handle of his bag so he can wheel it over to the elevator and Kate does the same, her free hand sliding into his. Inside the elevator car, she lets go of her bag and wraps her arm around him, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his shorts on the opposite side and pillowing her cheek against his bicep. A kiss comes to the crown of her head and he stays there until the doors open on the lobby of his building.

There's a separate elevator for the parking garage that only comes to the lobby, so that it's impossible to sneak into the building without going past the doorman, and when Frank sees them he flutters his fingers in a half-wave and steps forward to take their bags.

"Good afternoon Mr Castle, Detective Beckett. How was your vacation?"

Frank is the only person who knows that they were away at the cabin together; Castle told the doorman that he would be going away so that Frank knew to collect the mail and hold it for him, and so that he'd know not to send anybody up to his apartment. They haven't explicitly told Frank - or anybody - that they're together, but the doorman sees Kate every time she arrives to spend the night or even a few days at Castle's loft, must surely have figured it out for himself.

"It was fantastic, thanks Frank," Castle is saying, his smile a little more reserved in front of the man than it has been the past ten days. "Don't worry about our bags, we'll handle them."

"Oh," Kate says, suddenly realising that Castle just expects her to come upstairs with him. She casts her eyes to Frank and the doorman nods, takes a few smooth steps backward until he's out of earshot. "Castle. I have to go home."

The hint of a smile at his mouth washes clean away, melting right down his face until he's left staring at her, his jaw slack. "I thought you would. . .come up."

Shaking her head, Kate rounds the corner towards the elevators that lead up to the apartments, conveniently out of view of the people walking past outside. Once they're sheltered, she reaches for his hand and brings it up to her chest, holds it there underneath both of hers.

"I need to check my mail and water the plants, unpack my stuff. Make sure my apartment is still standing."

"Right," he says, but his head hangs a little and he sighs dejectedly, the fingers of his free hand curling and uncurling around the handle of his bag over and over again.

Eyes closing for a moment, Kate sucks in a breath and tries to fortify herself against his sadness. It's not unreasonable of her to want to go home and make sure everything is alright; as wonderful as their vacation was, she doesn't live with him. Not yet.

Castle's eyes are roaming their immediate surroundings, refusing to meet hers and Kate bites at her bottom lip, trying to figure out what she can offer him. "I'll come over for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Okay," he shrugs, scuffing the toe of one shoe along the marble floor tile and untangling his hand from her grip, shoving them both in his pockets like a little boy.

A sigh crumbles in her throat as she refuses to let it escape and Kate takes a step nearer to her partner, wishes she was brave enough to kiss him here where anybody could see. "Castle, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you. But surely you knew that I would have to go home at some point?"

"I guess I just hoped that coming home from vacation didn't mean I would have to stop spending my nights with you. Stupid."

"No, not stupid," she breathes, reaches out to brush one of her hairs away where it clings to the sleeve of his t-shirt. The contact, even through the fabric, makes him shiver and he lifts his head to look at her, a frown creasing his forehead. "I'm still going to spend nights with you, Rick. Don't look so dejected. This isn't- we're not _over_."

He nods, but his shoulders are still slumped, boyish rejection still marring his face. And now she's thinking about how much Castle likes to have people around him, how lonely his massive loft must be when he's the only one home.

"Will you at least come up for five minutes so I can say goodbye properly?" he asks, not quite looking at her as if he can't bear to watch her say no to that as well.

Reaching for the handle of her bag, Kate jabs a finger into the elevator call button and steps inside when the doors come open immediately, turning back around to beckon to him. "Come on. Let me deliver you safely to your door."

Inside Castle's loft, she hovers in the entryway while he carries his bag through to his bedroom, not trusting herself to follow. She doesn't want to get settled, doesn't want to fall into bed with him right now. It's important to her that she retain her independence, and anyway, she really does need to check on her apartment.

When he comes back to her he loosens her fingers from around the handle of her suitcase, drawing her in close so that her arms slide around his waist of their own accord. He's got one hand cupping the back of her neck and the other coasting up and down her spine and he grins at her, lopsided and a little goofy.

"Thank you for the most perfect vacation, Kate. I had the best time."

"Thanks for making the cabin a place of happiness again," she says quietly, shifting her hands to slip them both underneath his shirt and to the warmth of the bare skin at his sides, like silk under her fingertips. "I'm glad you loved it as much as I do."

He nods at that, and then he leans in to kiss her. The door is right at her back and Kate lets him nudge her up against it, half expecting the crack of thunder to jolt her body into his. His hands wander over her like spectres, one moment in her hair and the next flirting with the hem of her shirt and Kate gasps, tilting her head to let his tongue paint a hot line up the side of her neck.

His teeth close around the lobe of her ear, nibbling gently and a shiver rattles through her, making her bones clack together. Fisting her hands in the material over his shoulder blades, Kate tugs him away from her and lets her head thud back against the door, a gasp caught in her throat.

"I really have to go home," she says gently, soothing him as best she can with her touch.

Castle nods and takes a step back from her, one hand in his pocket again as if he can't stop himself from reaching for her. With the other, he opens the front door of the loft for her and she steps through, leaves him in the threshold.

"Text me when you get home safe?" he asks, as he does every time she leaves him and she nods, offers him a small smile.

He cares so fiercely about her, and guilt weighs heavy on her shoulders. Yes, she does need to check her apartment, but that'll only take an hour at the most. There's no reason she can't come back here tonight, except some ridiculous notion that she has something to prove. That she needs to reassure herself that she can survive a night without him at her side.

Castle leans in and dusts a last kiss to her cheek as she turns to go, and when she rounds the end of the corridor he wiggles his fingers at her in a wave, but his body sags against the doorframe and Kate has to press a hand to her mouth once she's out of his sight, forcing herself to keep moving.

She'll see him tomorrow.

* * *

Rick tries the best that he can, but after a couple of hours or so he runs out of chores and errands to fill his time. He unpacks his suitcase and puts it away on a high shelf in his closet. He waters his plants and collects his mail from downstairs, goes through it all and responds to everything that requires it.

He even goes to the grocery store to pick up essentials - milk, butter, bread - and some stuff for dinner tonight, but after he's put away his purchases and checked his emails, scrolled through his twitter mentions, he finds himself on the couch staring at the wall.

The city is suffocating him, too much noise pressing up against the glass after the absolute solitude of the cabin, and suddenly he needs to be outside. He's still wearing his shoes and his phone is in his pocket, so Castle springs up from the couch with life swelling in his veins and heads right for the front door, locking it behind himself.

Beckett needs a little time this evening and that's good, he's glad that she recognised her need and had enough faith in them - in _him_ \- to ask for it, but he knows she'd hate it if he wasted the day sitting around and missing her.

It's not just Kate's absence, but his mother and Alexis too, and the loft is quiet in a way that feels all wrong, fathoms apart from the cabin. If he can't have that lovely, peaceful silence then he needs the noise of the city.

He takes the subway across town to the park, not even minding the sardine crush of the train and the heat that swells up to bake him immediately. New York is always busy with tourists, but the summer months are especially chaotic. The park will be crowded on a beautiful day like this, spilling over into the surrounding streets, but that's exactly what he needs.

When he gets off the train Castle tugs his phone free from his pocket and opens his messages, reading over his last exchange with Kate again. She texted him when she got back to her apartment to say that she'd made it safely and she was already looking forward to brunch, and she had included a heart emoji and a coffee emoji; he had no idea Beckett even knew how to use the emoticon feature on her phone.

It had made him laugh out loud and then he'd responded with a long string of emojis to represent their time at the cabin, trees and little swimming people and dogs with a heart to separate each distinct event. He'd received only a smiling face for his efforts, but he'd been delighted anyway.

In the park he buys himself an ice cream from a vendor who speaks on the phone in rapid-fire Arabic before pausing to thank Castle in English, wish him a pleasant day. He got a cone, even though it will start to melt and run down his wrist before he gets a chance to finish it, and as he eats he meanders along the path that circles the lake.

He wishes Kate were here, wants to share this with her as he does everything else, but he'll respect her need for time to herself. Even so, as he walks past couple after couple, pairs of lovers twining together, he can't help but ache over her absence. That's them now, lovers, and his hand makes it halfway into the pocket that holds his phone before he yanks it out again, forces his arm to hang loosely at his side. He can survive an afternoon without her.

Once he's finished with his ice cream he finds an empty bench, delivered up to him by fate itself on such a busy day, and he sinks down to pull his phone free from his pocket and message his daughter. Alexis doesn't know that he wasn't in the city, has no idea that he's been on vacation, so he has to squash his silly urge to tell her that he's home and instead asks after her and his mother.

There are still weeks of their tour stretching out ahead of them, and although he's grateful for all of the time he gets to spend with Beckett, he misses his little girl and his mother desperately. He wants to spend time with all three of them together, wants to do family dinners and movie nights and Sunday trips to the park.

Castle takes a picture of himself pulling a goofy face to send to his daughter, and then bravery takes hold of him and he sends the photograph to Kate as well, taps out a caption about how not having her around makes him into a fool. He doesn't say that he misses her, doesn't want to make her feel guilty, but he has no doubt that she'll read it in to what he does say anyway.

Balancing his phone on his thigh, Castle leans back against the bench and watches the activity out on the lake, the swan boats that move smoothly through the water. It's been a long time since he's really done any of the touristy things the city offers, but he kind of wants to do them all with his partner, maybe take her on a horse and carriage ride.

Right as he thinks it, his phone starts ringing and he glances down to see his partner's radiant face on the screen. A grin splits open the seam of his mouth, his joy ripe and boundless and he swipes to answer, eyes shuttering closed at the sound of her voice. "Hi Kate."

"Hey," she says, and he hears the rush of ambient noise in the background, the far away honk of a car horn. "Are you in the park?"

"Yeah. I figured just because I'm back in the city doesn't mean I can't get out into nature."

That earns him a breath of laughter from her and he imagines the dip of her head, the flush of happiness in her cheeks. "Can I come join you?"

"Of course," he says immediately, excitement fizzing in his guts at the prospect of seeing her even after such a short time apart. "I'm on a bench overlooking the lake, not too far from the boathouse. I'll wait here for you."

"Okay. See you soon," she says, and then there's a click as the call disconnects.

He tries not to drum his feet too fervently, tries his best to sit still on the bench and wait patiently, but he's just so delighted that she's on her way. Spending time with Kate, sharing with her, makes everything better, and seeing her now will be doubly sweet after thinking he'd have to go the rest of the day apart from her.

It takes twenty minutes or so, but eventually he sees her making her way down the path towards him and he stands up from the bench to meet her, leaning in to kiss her cheek and tangle his fingers with hers. He brings their joined hands up between them as they walk, casting her a glance. "Is this okay?"

"Holding my hand? Yeah," she grins at him, her shoulder bumping against his.

He manages to stay quiet for a little while, wandering along the path that winds around the lake with Kate's hand in his, but silence isn't exactly natural for him and after a handful of minutes Kate lifts an eyebrow, bringing them to a stop and guiding them away from the middle of the path, out of the flow of foot traffic. "What is it?"

"You said you didn't want to see me today," he blurts, shame immediately flooding his cheeks. He didn't mean to say it quite like that, reveal how it stings whenever she wants to be apart from him. He understands it, he really does, and he doesn't resent her for it, but it's still entirely dichotomous to his own personality and it feels like sandpaper against his raw nerve endings.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to see you, Castle," she starts, still holding tight to his hand. She's wearing flats now, has changed into a lacy coral dress he didn't see on their vacation, and the light falls dappled onto her face through the trees over their heads, constantly shifting. "I just had things to sort out at home. And I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive an afternoon without you."

He huffs a breath at that, free hand sliding back into his pocket so that his thumb can stroke over the smooth metal of his phone. "Nobody's doubting that, Beckett."

"Well now _I_ am," she laughs, squeezing his fingers and stepping in close enough that her body flirts with his. The material of her dress swishes around her thighs, sunglasses pushed up on top of her head and her hair curling over one shoulder; she looks like an actress or a model, so gorgeous he's almost afraid to touch her in case she turns out to be a phantom. "Because I couldn't do it. I was sitting at home, having run out of errands to fill my time with, and I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wished I was with you."

"I missed you too," he breathes, drawing her in for a kiss. They're mostly sheltered here in this cove of trees, far enough from the boathouse that the path is a little quieter, so he doesn't hesitate as he slides a hand into her hair, the other flirting with the curve of her spine.

When their kiss crumbles around goofy, love-rich smiles he keeps a hold of her, doesn't let her stray from his embrace. How much he adores her is this first, the way she leans in close to him and nuzzles her nose into the skin of his throat, and then all the rest of it.

"So. Can we still do breakfast if I stay the night?"

"Sure," he laughs, pressing another kiss to her swollen mouth before he lets her step away from the circle of his arms. His phone starts ringing and he fishes it out of his pocket, keeps one of Beckett's hands clasped in his so she can't wander away from him. "It's Alexis. Hold on."

"Hey Dad," his daughter says when he swipes to answer the call and he grins, so happy to hear her voice. Nothing quite prepared him for how much it would be possible to miss his baby girl, how the loft would echo with the absence of her laughter. The first time she spent the night away from home, a birthday sleepover at her classmate's apartment, he had moped for hours.

At his side Kate shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, looking like she wants to give him some space, but he's had enough of that from her today and he hooks two fingers around hers to keep her with him, shoots her a frown when she tugs on his grip. "Hi, pumpkin. How are you?"

"I'm good! Gram and I just had a quiet day at the beach today," his little girl is saying. She sounds tired, and he bites back the fatherly concern he knows she doesn't need anymore. Alexis is eighteen now, and his mother is there to look after her; he doesn't need to interfere. "How are you? Getting much writing done?"

"Some," he says, poking his tongue out at Beckett when she gives him a scathing look. It's not a lie, not exactly; he did manage to get a few chapters written while they were at the cabin. "I've mostly just been trying to keep myself entertained without the two of you around to distract me."

There's a quiet sound of sympathy from his daughter, a pause before she speaks and he holds his breath, waiting on her. "Have you spent any time with Beckett recently?"

His partner lifts an eyebrow at that, able to hear every word of his conversation with his daughter, and he shrugs. He has no idea why Alexis is so interested in Kate all of the sudden, why she's pushing him to spend time with the detective, but it sends great tides of relief through him. "She's here right now, actually. We're in the park."

"Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt," Alexis says, and Kate's eyes widen a little. He's not exactly sure that his daughter is insinuating there's anything _to_ interrupt, whether she's starting to figure out that something more is going on between Rick and his partner, but right now he has to play it like everything is normal.

Castle takes the time to clear his throat while he ruminates on an answer that won't clue his daughter in, glancing over at his partner to try and read her. Kate's grip on his hand grows tighter and tighter until his knuckles bleach with the force of it, her lip caught between her teeth again. "You're not interrupting, Alexis. We're just taking a walk, enjoying the weather. We're both pretty bored, not being able to go to the precinct."

"Well, I was just checking in to make sure you weren't feeling lonely, but if Beckett's there then I guess not."

Oh? Is that what this is? He wants his daughter to enjoy herself on her vacation, not get hung up on concern for him. And clearly, he needs to maybe tone down the espionage a little bit if she thinks he's lonely. Kate is here, hand still in his, and he's the farthest from alone he's been in a long time.

"Alexis, I'm a grown up. It's not your job to look after me, as much as we might joke about it. You have fun on your trip, pumpkin. Don't worry about me."

There's a pause, and then he can almost hear his daughter's shrug, her pleased little smile. "Alright, Dad. I'll email you later with some pictures. I love you."

"I love you too," he says, waiting for her to disconnect the call before he drops the phone from his ear. Pushing it into his pocket, he turns to look at Kate and lifts an eyebrow at her. "She seems pretty eager for me to be spending time with you."

"That's good, right?" his partner says quietly, her bottom lip a little raw where her teeth have sunk into it over and over. He knows she worries about his daughter, concerned that Alexis still harbours the negative feelings towards Beckett that grew after she was shot.

Reeling her in to his embrace, Rick wraps his arms tight around her and kisses the crown of her head. "Of course it's good. Everything's gonna turn out fine. Now, would you like to come back to the loft with me?"

"Yeah. Okay," she nods, but she's still distracted, her eyes never landing on one spot for more than a second at a time.

Cupping her face in his palms, Rick leans in and takes a kiss from her mouth, another, walking her slowly backwards until she bumps up against a tree. It's quiet in this little section of the park, but not exactly private, so he keeps his kiss as chaste as he can bear to with the heave of her chest against his, her body so warm and good.

When he breaks away from her mouth she smiles at him, gives herself a little shake as if to rid herself of any leftover anxiety about his conversation with Alexis. They've got weeks, still, before Alexis comes home and they have to worry about it, and he doesn't want Kate to get hung up over it. He'll do whatever he can not to let that happen.

* * *

They stop at Kate's apartment on the way back to the loft and she packs an overnight bag, banishes her partner to the living room. It's not as if he hasn't seen her bedroom before, seen everything she's got really, but she knows that if he comes in here they will both allow themselves to get thoroughly distracted. She'd rather do that at the loft, where they'll have the whole night stretching out ahead of them.

Once they make it back to Castle's home she dumps her bag in his bedroom and comes back to find him on the couch, a glass of wine for each of them resting on the long table that runs along the back. Sinking down to sit with him, Kate lets him curl his arms around her and draw her right into his lap, wriggling to get comfortable.

"Tell me if you need space," he says gruffly, his mouth at the skin of her neck where it slopes away from her ear, tongue just darting out to touch.

Laughing, Kate struggles her way into facing him and settles a palm against his cheek, nudging her nose into his. "Castle. I think if the last ten days at the cabin taught me anything, it's that I don't need space from you. Not for more than a half hour or so, anyway."

"Oh really?" he says, an eyebrow arching at her and she leans in to graze her teeth over the so-soft skin, delighting in the shiver that rips through him, the jerk of his hips up into hers.

"Really. Usually I need to be alone to. . .to recharge, I guess. But being with you never makes me feel drained, never wears me out."

He leers at her, the fingers of one hand sliding underneath the hem of her dress and up her thigh, splaying wide at the crease of her leg and his thumb circling her skin. "I don't wear you out? I must be doing something wrong."

"Not that," she knocks her head against his, their temples bumping together, and she shifts in his lap. Already, arousal is cascading through her system, but she wants to make sure he understands what she's trying to say here before she gives in to the hot rush of lust. "Castle. I'm trying to be serious."

"Okay. I'm listening," he says, sliding his hand back out from underneath her dress and folding it neatly in his lap with the other, meeting her eyes with a soft smile. It still amazes her how quickly he can switch from the thunder of desire rippling through him to serious and collected and totally in control. Still wrecks her, the way he employs that skill sometimes.

"Everything about being with you is so different to anything I've had before. I've never had a relationship built on so much trust. I've never fallen in love with my best friend."

A smile cracks his face wide open at that and he leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth, lingering there and sucking in a breath before he tugs away enough to see her face again. Kate slides out of his lap and gets to her knees at his side, reaching for one of his hands to hold in both of hers.

"That's why I'm not afraid. Not about people finding out, not about needing space from you, none of it. Because I know that this between us? It's for keeps."

"You know, I keep thinking I couldn't be more in love with you, and then you do something else and I fall so hard all over again," he says, looking at her as if she's at once a stranger and somebody so familiar, like their atoms were together when the world first exploded into being and they've been tugged back towards each other ever since.

Gasping on a bubble of wet laughter, emotion thick in her belly and her throat, Kate slides her knee over his thighs again and sinks down, both hands at his cheeks to guide his mouth to hers.

"Castle," she gasps in between the touch of their mouths, her kiss directionless and smudging. "Oh, Castle. I love you too."

He grins wide, their kiss crumbling apart around his arcing joy and he slides a hand into her hair, cradling the curve of her skull as he looks at her. "I really did love the cabin, Kate. Is it too soon to start planning for Christmas?"

* * *

 **fin.**

* * *

 **A/N:** Some of you have expressed interest in reading about them telling their families that they're together, them moving in together and getting engaged, but this fic was always intended to slot neatly into the canon of the summer after season four and therefore in my mind, all of those events transpired exactly as we saw them happen on the show.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. Your kind words have made me smile each and every time. Eternal gratitude to Allie and Berkie, my amazing betas and the best sounding boards any writer could ask for. You two are phenomenal, and this story owes itself to you both.


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